


Cursed

by OhDeerDearie



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Fluff and Angst, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Minor Character Death, Slow Build, poor baby draco's life is a wreck
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-12-19
Updated: 2016-09-08
Packaged: 2018-05-07 15:50:47
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 11
Words: 36,907
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5462282
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/OhDeerDearie/pseuds/OhDeerDearie
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>A strange, unknown curse has befallen the remaining Death Eaters, wiping them all out and leaving Draco as the last one standing. Harry receives a call from the Malfoys, asking for his help to save his rival once again. But with the boys becoming closer, will new feelings be realized? (This work has now been happily adopted!)</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Hello hello my lovely readers! I have this story up already on my other account on fanfiction.net, but my other stories are up on both so I figured I'd move this one over here as well! Comments and kudos are both very much appreciated and literally make me happy for days!  
> This story was actually inspired by another fanfic: Owned by Jordan Grant on livejournal (if it's still there, it's been a while). I read it years and years ago and it's absolutely amazing and I highly recommend it if you're into heavy bdsm and a shit ton of feels (you will cry for days). This story does not have the bdsm factor (that I'm planning at least. If ya'll want that later just hmu and I will gladly throw a bit your way), but there is a high level of angst so be warned! Anyway, sorry for rambling! I hope you enjoy!

Harry’s first summer after Voldemort’s death was not turning out at all like he had expected. While he had anticipated the swarming masses of die hard Golden Boy fans, he hadn’t expected them to be waiting for him in front of Grimmauld Place 24/7. He couldn’t imagine how the Daily Prophet was making money off the few pictures they managed to get. _Harry Potter Ventures out of Hiding to Get Groceries_ was one of the few titles he had glimpsed as he threw the paper into his fireplace with varying levels of satisfaction every morning to start the day right.

To make matters worse, Hermione and Ron, along with the rest of the Weasleys, were spending the summer with Charlie in Romania for a family gathering to mourn Fred. Harry had been invited of course, but he honestly didn’t think he could handle being around any more reminders of the war and all the friends--or really family--he had lost to it.

The savior of the wizarding world gazed distractedly out of his drawing room window, magically stirring his tea with one swirling finger and fiddling with a quill with his other hand. He had gotten in the habit of writing letters to Hermione, even though he never actually sent them to her. He hadn't the heart to replace Hedwig yet, so there was a rather large pile of sealed messages to his friends stacked haphazardly around the room, often falling over on the unfortunate Kreacher if the ancient house elf tried to organize them.

Today, Harry’s mind was plagued with memories of the trials that had occurred after the war ended. He had seen on the cover of the Daily Prophet that Lucius Malfoy had broken his house arrest, but he didn’t particularly care to find out why. He had tossed the paper aside immediately, but didn’t burn it for some reason. He was still trying to convince himself that the Death Eater family didn’t deserve to get the Kiss, but old childhood rivalries still clung to Harry’s mind. Still, he could easily remember the terrified, pale face of Draco as he was brought before him. The whole family looked worse for wear and almost sickly, though Harry figured that anybody would be fearful knowing that their life lay in the hands of their enemy. But something had seemed _off_ , Harry just couldn’t figure out what it was.

Which was what he was trying to tell Hermione in his letter, but the words just wouldn’t work. He longed for his friends to return, if only so he wouldn’t be all alone in this big house with nobody but Kreacher to take his mind off the tragedy that had taken place just months ago. Not that the ancient house elf did a very good job of distracting him; every time Harry looked at the servant he could only see Dobby’s huge, innocent eyes looking back.

Harry shook himself to clear his thoughts and picked up his wand. There was no way he was going to make the elf go shopping for him again; he was getting far too stir crazy being trapped in his house when he had grown so accustomed to camping in the woods for the previous half a year. Casting a spell on his tea to keep it warm until he returned, Harry summoned his jacket and prepared to face the masses that were sure to be lurking right outside his wards.

Just as Harry prepared to disapperate to his front porch, however, Kreacher appeared in the room with a loud _snap_ , his oversized ears flapping in his face as he bowed low.

“Master Harry, a visitor at the floo for you. Nice pureblood wizard he is. Said for Kreacher to come straight to you and say it’s urgent. Kreacher came as fast as he could for the praiseworthy wizard.”

Harry was out of the room before Kreacher could finish singing the strange visitor’s praises, a terrible feeling in his gut that he would not like this guest nearly as much as his elf seemed to. Entering the kitchen slowly, wand at the ready, his suspicions were confirmed by the very unwelcome head floating in his fireplace.

“This is breaking your curfew, Malfoy. Though you don’t seem to care about that, now do you?”

Lucius Malfoy grimaced and Harry could tell, even through the fire, that the usually flawless wizard had something very wrong with him. Harry knew better then to trust appearances, however. The man was a Slytherin after all.

“I don’t have time for your games, Potter. Since you, as well as the whole world it seems, are so knowledgeable about my current situation, it shouldn’t be difficult for a prodigy such as yourself to put two and two together and realize the Ministry sent me here for you. Not me, personally, but time runs short and these blasted mediwizards don’t do anything useful as it is.” Lucius gave Harry the trademark Malfoy smirk, but it had lost any of its malice and became more of a wince of pain.

“I don’t know what you’re going on about Malfoy. Contrary to popular belief, I don’t give a rat’s arse about what goes on with your family matters. Now tell me why you’re here before I turn you in.”

“Have you been living under a rock, Potter? Surely, you of all people would read the Daily Prophet since your day to day life is such a thriller to the masses--”

Lucius’s mocking voice was cut off by a violent coughing fit so intense that sparks flew from the hearth. It sounded like the man was literally about to cough out a lung or two.

“W-well while y-you m-may be a b-b-blithering idiot,” Malfoy’s speech was rough and he sounded like he was struggling to breathe between words. He coughed again before continuing. “The healers are getting desperate and we have n-no idea what to do. You, or m-more likely your b-blood, is the only c-chance we have left, Potter. So g-get over here b-before it’s too late. Y-you’re his l-last hope for survival,” Malfoy’s face was starting to fade and Harry heard shouting from the other side of the fireplace. Malfoy’s face looked panicked, his already short breath coming out in wheezing gasps. “Please, hurry.”

Then, only the dimly crackling fire remained.

Feeling thoroughly uncomfortable, Harry snatched the Prophet off the table and ripped the paper open. There was no way he was going to set foot in the Manor unless he had concrete evidence that he needed to be there. Not that he was even considering it, of course. He was just curious, was all.

He scanned the article about Lucius breaking his house arrest, but there was nothing suggesting as to why. Frustrated, Harry started tearing through the paper, searching for anything that dealt with the Malfoy family. Finally, under a disturbing article about what kind of toothpaste Harry Potter last purchased, the wizard found a small column next to an even smaller picture of Narcissa Malfoy grimly staring at the camera, looking very skinny and pale and swaying as if not steady on her own two feet. Next to the picture was a title that made Harry’s jaw drop. “Narcissa Malfoy Dead, Only Two Death Eaters Remain Alive.”

 

_Quite an unpleasant fate has met those who bore the Dark Mark. Since You-Know-Who’s defeat, an unknown curse has done the job of wiping the world of his surviving followers in one of the worst ways we, as wizards, can imagine. While the gory details have been locked behind tight lips, it has been confirmed that Narcissa Malfoy, wife of the infamous Lucius Malfoy and mother of Draco Malfoy, has finally been killed, leaving behind the only two surviving Death Eaters. Despite the commendable efforts of healers and ministry workers alike, no counter curse has yet been discovered, leaving the two Malfoys to their fate and making us question if some divine justice is being served here…_

 

Harry made a disgusted sound in the back of his throat at the sheer atrocity that was the Daily Prophet. Even if they were Death Eaters, they were still human beings, dammit! The article made them sound lower than animals! And for what? To mar Narcissa’s memory? If only the public knew that she was the reason Harry survived, they may have tried a bit harder to save the poor woman from her fate.

Harry jumped up from the table, yelling to Kreacher not to expect him back for a while. He grabbed a handful of floo powder and stepped into the fireplace. With only the slightest hesitation, Harry stood looking down at the flames. He had gotten the confirmation he needed, though. Now he just had to trust that the Malfoys weren’t planning some elaborate scheme to kill him. Without another thought, the Chosen One threw the floo powder into the fire and yelled “Malfoy Manor.”

He closed his eyes as he felt the familiar pull of the floo network and silently said goodbye to his peaceful, if a bit lonely, summer.


	2. Chapter 2

The second Harry appeared in the manor’s fireplace, he had his wand in hand, ready to defend against any curses. However, none came and Harry was left pointing his wand at a trembling and exhausted looking mediwizard. The chubby little man slowly raised his empty hands in the air as surrender and Harry lowered his wand immediately, profusely apologizing for scaring the already unsteady healer.

“No apology needed, Mr Potter. Just please follow me to Mr Draco’s room immediately. Lucius waisted his remaining strength on you, so we might as well put you to good use. Quickly now. We haven’t much time.”

Harry instantly felt terrible for taking so long arriving and hastily jogged after the mediwizard, who briskly marched down one of the lavishly decorated hallways. The blatant flaunting of wealth that the Malfoy’s manor possessed made Harry feel almost nauseous as he was led through room after room, each more elaborate and luxurious as the last.

_I’m here to save Malfoy. Why I’m saving him I don’t know, but then again, I never know why I save him time and time again._

Distracted by the effort it took not to run right back to the fireplace, Harry didn’t see the mediwizard stop until he had nearly run the poor man over. They were standing before a surprisingly plain oak door. 

The healer gave Harry a stern look. “We request you do not do or say anything to upset Mr Draco. He is in enough pain as it is and we can hardly manage to keep him from screaming himself to death. Mr. Malfoy seemed to believe that since you were the one to end He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named, only you can help his son. Please, Mr Potter, do whatever you can, even if it may be uncomfortable. And do not speak of this outside of this manor, do you understand?” The wizard waited for Harry to nod his confirmation before he took a deep breath and pushed the door open.

For a moment, there was silence. Then Harry felt the static feeling of a silencing spell being lifted. A blood curdling scream shattered the air, making Harry jump backwards and reflexively shield his ears with his hands. The healer beckoned him to move forward, however, so Harry hesitantly stepped into the room.

It looked like a hospital room and a potion lab had been mushed together, giving the room both a sterile and unsafe atmosphere. Harry could just barely hear the bubbling of the row of cauldrons lined up against the far wall under the harsh scream that had yet to cease. On the other side of the room, a fleet of mediwizards huddled around an enormous bed that took up a good third of the room. All the healers looked ready to drop from exhaustion as they wrung their hands over the mess of rumpled green and silver blankets where the screaming originated.

Harry was prodded forward and the door behind him was pushed shut. The bagged eyes of the healers all turned to look at him and the wizard on the far side of the bed waved him over tiredly. Taking a deep breath, he obeyed.

Not five feet from the bed, however, and the screaming came to an eerie halt. Several of the wizards looked completely taken aback at the sudden silence and Harry saw two of them pull cotton from their ears. He, too, slowly removed his hands from the sides of his head, uncertain of what events were going to unfold.

“Clo-closer,” a raspy voice groaned from under the blankets. Shaking slightly, Harry took a hesitant step toward the bed, hearing a moan as a response. He took another step, then another. Each was met with a sound, be it from pain or relief Harry couldn’t tell, from where Draco lay hidden.

Finally, Harry stepped up to the edge of the bed.

“Malfoy?” When he heard a whimper in response, Harry slowly reached out a hand and laid it gently on where he thought Draco’s shoulder would be.

No sooner had he made contact with the blankets then they were harshly ripped away and a pale blur was launching itself at Harry, who shouted in surprise as he was knocked off his feet.

Deathly pale arms were locked firmly around Harry’s waist as the far too skinny form of Draco Malfoy clung desperately to him. Harry began trying to fight back, but the demanding voice of a healer commanded him to stop struggling and Harry remembered that he wasn’t allowed to do anything to cause Malfoy discomfort. The blond boy wasn’t even moving as he lay draped over Harry’s body, his face pressed into Harry’s stomach so the only thing the dark-headed wizard could see was his sweat drenched pale hair. For a moment they lay there in utter silence, not even the mediwizards taking a breath. But then a quiet sob broke through.

“Malfoy?! Are you okay?” Harry instantly berated himself for his word choice. _Of course he’s not okay he’s sobbing into your stomach, idiot! Does that sound like something a person who is feeling okay would do?_

Draco didn’t seem to realize Harry’s idiotic comment, however, and continued to cry his eyes out on the front of the confused wizard’s shirt.

Putting aside for a moment the fact that this was Draco Malfoy he was dealing with, Harry took a deep breath and then laid a hand gently on Draco’s hair. When there was no negative reaction, he tentatively ran his fingers through the blond locks and was rewarded with a hitch in Draco’s sobbing.

“What do you want me to do, Malfoy?”

The smaller boy flinched slightly at the sound of his name, but then shook his head against Harry’s stomach.

“You just feel so good.”

Harry fought down the blush that formed at Draco’s words. _There is no way I am blushing because of Malfoy. This is just… confusing. That’s it! My body doesn’t know what’s going on right now and he probably doesn’t understand what he’s saying anyway. It’s not because of Malfoy it’s not because of Malfoy it’s not…_

The sound of yelling drew Harry’s attention away from the blonde, his hand pausing in the pale hair as a loud _bang_ erupted from the hallway. The door was suddenly blasted open and there stood Lucius, looking like death on his feet. His normally long, flowing hair was so thin his scalp was visible and the paleness of his skin looked unnatural. He took one look at where his son was sprawled on Harry’s lap with his face still on the brunette’s stomach, Harry’s hand still in his hair, and a grimace of a smile twisted his face.

“I was right. Oh the irony is to die for.”

With those words, the elder Malfoy crumpled to the ground, unmoving.

The next few hours moved in a haze for Harry. Mediwizards blurred past him like the world was stuck on fast-forward with him left on pause in the center of it all, the young Malfoy’s body still draped over his lap as he slept peacefully for the first time in what had to be weeks, if not months.

Lucius Malfoy had been removed from the room and placed back in his own, but by the sound of the whispers in the hallway, he wasn’t expected to last but a few hours longer, if that.

Through it all, Draco slept like the dead; the only indication of life being his erratic breathing and the retained tightness of his grip around Harry’s waist. The mediwizards had tried to relocate the two to the bed for Harry’s sake, but the second Draco seemed to sense he was being moved from the boy hero he began to silently scream and thrash against the wizards. 

Thus, on the floor the two remained, being poked and prodded periodically by wands as the mediwizards attempted to decipher why Harry seemed to act as a tranquilizer. Notes were scratched on parchment, potions were bubbling in their cauldrons, and wizards who had been standing around for weeks waiting for their charge to die were running around like mad, new hope shining in their sleep deprived eyes.

Harry ignored all of it. His back was propped up against some pillows as he lay on the floor--though the carpet was so thick he found it hardly necessary--with one hand still in Draco’s hair and the other tugging deftly at a loose string on his T-shirt.

_Why does everything always happen to me? Can’t the world just realize that I’ve dealt with enough already!_

Harry sighed heavily, grunting softly when Draco unconsciously tightened his grip around his waist. Why was it always Malfoy, anyway?

Closing his eyes, Harry decided that he may as well spend his time serving as a body pillow taking a nap of his own, since it was clear he was not moving until a certain blond woke up. He finally drifted off to the rhythmic sound of bubbling potion, one last whisper making it’s way to his ears.

“ _Lucius is dead._ ”

* * *

 

“Mr Potter? Mr Potter please wake up!”

Harry groaned tiredly and attempted to roll away from the irritating voices, his neck aching for an unknown reason.

_Voices? Why are there people in my house? And what in Merlin’s name is on top of me?_

The dark-haired boy cracked an eye open, but his glasses were too askew on his nose to allow him to see anything other than blurry outlines of faces bent towards him. He tried to raise a hand to restore his vision, but found that it, as well as the rest of his body, was pinned under something heavy and quite warm.

Blinking blearily, Harry glanced down and was met with a face full of blond hair.

“Gah!” the startled wizard shoved the body off of him and backpedaled until he hit the legs of a mediwizard.

“Where…. What….” fixing his glasses at last, Harry took in his surroundings, finally remembering where he was and why he was there.

He quickly returned his gaze to Draco, who has managed to latch a hand around Harry’s ankle and was rubbing one eye with the other after his rude awakening. The blond looked so disheveled and discombobulated that Harry almost laughed. That was, until he finally spoke, his voice hardly audible and rasping like a chain-smoker’s.

“Potter? What the hell? Why are you here? And why am I on the floor?”

Harry’s eyes narrowed. So that was how it was going to be? He came all the way here just for pratty Malfoy to act too good? A small part of Harry’s mind whispered that Malfoy hadn’t said anything that offensive, but it was drowned out by Harry’s grouchy, freshly awake thoughts.

“Hell if I know, Malfoy! All I was told is that your sorry ass needed saving again and apparently you needed me to do it! Now would you mind letting go of me?!”

“NO!” five voices all yelled in synch, four belonging to the hovering mediwizards and one belonging to a terrified-looking Draco. The grip on his ankle tightened immensely.

“Okay, okay. Sorry!” Harry ran a hand through his already messy hair, taking a deep breath to fully awaken himself.

“Mr Potter? We have news for you. And you as well, Mr Malfoy…”

Harry sat up fully, glancing at the wizard who spoke. The man was wringing his hands nervously, unsure if he should continue.

“Well? Out with it!”

The mediwizard jumped and Harry grit his teeth. _I am so not a morning person._

“Sorry, I’m just a bit tired. What do you have to tell us?”

The wizard’s gaze switched to Draco, who was still laying sprawled on his stomach, clinging to Harry’s ankle like his life depended on the contact. He was staring at the carpet, his unkept hair shielding his face from those above him, but Harry could see the twisted look on his face. Draco knew he wasn’t going to like what he was about to hear.

“Your father is gone, Mr. Malfoy. We deeply apologize that we could not restore his health, but he was simply too far gone for us to save. We think it had something to do with…”

Harry wasn’t listening to the wizard’s medical speech, he was too focused on Draco’s expression, which had turned from foreboding to absolutely anguished with the delivery of the news. He was the last Malfoy. The last Death Eater. The last enemy of the wizarding world.

He was completely alone.

Harry froze as the boy started pulling himself up by the ankle in his grasp. He seemed to realize his actions, however, when Harry shuddered in response to Draco’s shaky breathing ghosting his leg. The ex Death Eater glanced almost guiltily up at the savior of the wizarding world and there were tears in his eyes threatening to spill over at any given moment, bringing Harry back to the last time he saw Malfoy cry. He had nearly killed him in the bathroom then, putting him through agonizing pain.

“…care, Mr. Potter.”

Harry shook his train of thought away, focusing back on the mediwizard.

“Sorry, but could you repeat?”

“I said, Lucius remained firm that young Mr Malfoy be left in your care, rather than under the protection of relatives. I assume it has something to do with the fact that you are the only thing we have discovered that relieves Mr Malfoy of the pain he has been suffering since the defeat of You-Know-Who, though we have no idea if it will prolong his life. That is, if you consent to letting Mr Malfoy live out the rest of his days without the agony of whatever curse is affecting him. It is entirely your choice.”

The man gave Harry a look that pretty much declared that he had no choice in the matter if the mediwizards had anything to say about it.

_They would feel the need to guilt trip me into doing this, wouldn’t they?_ Harry sighed, glancing back down at Draco, who was once again hiding his face and studying the carpet meticulously. _Well, I did say that even though the Malfoys were Death Eaters, they were still human after all. And nobody, no matter what they have done, deserves to die like Malfoy will if I leave him. But how long will it take? What if I’m stuck with him forever?_

Harry was taken out of his thoughts by a barely audible whisper.

“You don’t have to. I wouldn’t want to save me either, especially after…everything.”

_Ah to hell with it._

“I’ll do it. I’ll take care of him until...the end.”

Draco’s head shot up in shock and all the mediwizards smiled grimly.

“Well then, as it is quite late would you mind if we all got some sleep? It’s been far too long for all of us, and energy spells can have very negative health effects if used too frequently.”

Harry nodded silently, his eyes locked with Draco’s still shocked ones. A collective sigh resounded around the room and the wizards began to file out, leaving the two young men behind.

“You two should get some sleep as well. Mr Malfoy has to still be exhausted and you could probably use some rest on an actual bed, Mr Potter. We changed the linens, so it’s clean for the two of you. Goodnight!”

The door closed with a resounding thud, leaving the room in silence.

_Well this is going to be awkward for sure. What kind of mediwizards leave a patient alone in the care of his childhood enemy anyway? They must really be dead on their feet._ Harry grimaced at his own negative metaphor before focusing back on Draco, who looked like he was about to pass out.

“Well, come on then. I’m sure as hell not carrying you to the bed so you may as well get up. Let go of my leg now, too.”

Draco shook his head, moving so he was on his knees with his hand still firmly attached to Harry’s ankle.

“I can’t. It will hurt again.”

There was a tremor in Draco’s speech and Harry sighed. As much as he didn’t like the constant contact, he preferred it over Draco’s screaming anyway. And he didn’t like seeing his enemy appearing so weak; it went against everything Harry had built up against the ex Death Eater.

“Well then grab my arm instead or something. I’m too tired to deal with your crap right now.”

Draco gave him a look that plainly read _“you’re too tired?”_ but didn’t comment, instead reaching his unoccupied hand to hold Harry’s wrist. The two wizards stood together and crashed down on the bed.

_Why do I keep having the need to save this bastard?_

Harry yawned widely, getting under the silk blankets and doing his best to ignore  Draco’s hand still residing on his arm. The blond had passed out as soon as he hit the mattress and Harry left him on top of the blankets, not wanting to risk the contact that may happen if they had nothing between them. Accidentally cuddling with Draco would definitely make him rethink this whole arrangement.

Malfoy’s face was completely relaxed in his sleep, making him appear entirely too young and innocent; a complete 360 from the usually scowling boy Harry knew.

_Maybe I need to save him because I know he can still be saved._


	3. Chapter 3

Draco awoke slowly and groggily from the best sleep he had ever remembered having in his life. He yawned with his eyes still closed, stretching like a cat and against the protests of his extremely sore muscles.

_Why am I sore? Was I playing Quidditch yesterday or something? Or did father…Father? There’s something…wrong._

Draco’s eyebrows drew together and he slowly opened his eyes, blinking against the pressing darkness in his room as his pupils tried to focus.

_Dead. They’re all dead._

The realization shocked him into a lockdown, he could barely even process that words were being spoken to him.

“...been asleep forever and I need to pee. Wait, you don’t have to come _with_ me to pee, do you? Draco? Hey! At least let go of me already!”

A hand shook his shoulder and Draco vaguely realized that he was still clinging to the arm of a slightly pissed Harry Potter.

_Mother’s gone. Father’s gone. Everybody I knew is gone. And here I’m stuck with Harry fucking Potter to take away the pain of some god awful curse. What--how did this even happen to me? I can’t even remember Mother’s death!_

Draco felt his hands being pried away from where they were anchored to Harry’s arm and the blond was too stricken to protest against the agony he knew awaited as soon as his skin left the other boy’s. Honestly, to him the physical hurt would be nothing compared to the mental pain he was enduring.

The blond’s eyes moved up from their focus on his green sheets to rest on Harry’s face, which was scowling in concentration as he struggled to detach the remaining hand on his arm.

_They’re dead and he despises me. He’ll probably just leave me to die once the mediwizards clear him to_ care _for me. Dammit I’m not a child! I can take care of myself! Or can I? My whole life I’ve been taken care of. Why am I so helpless?_

Draco could feel his hand loosening it’s grip on Harry’s arm against his will and he pressed his eyes shut tightly

_He already can’t stand to be near me. Just let me die, please. Like you want me to. Like everybody else has. I deserve it more than anybody._

The second contact was broken between the two, Harry victoriously shoved Draco’s hands away and leapt off the bed, making a dash for the door on the far side of the room where he hoped the bathroom, or at least a bucket at this point, was located, not pausing for a second glance back at Draco, who’s already tense body seemed to curl in on itself. With every step that Harry took, a sharp burning like the piercing of thousands of boiling hot needles spread further and deeper throughout his body.

He struggled to raise his hand, to call Harry back before it was too late, but the only sound that escaped his lips was a silent whimper, his shredded vocal chords refusing to produce sound.

Collapsing back onto the blankets, Draco was wracked with unbidden sobs as he waited alone in the dark room for others to piece him together, just like he had his whole miserable life.

* * *

 

Harry traipsed down the hallway, feeling ten pounds lighter, or emptier, as he approached what he hoped was Draco’s bedroom door. Honestly, there were so many rooms in this ridiculous mansion Harry was half afraid of getting lost in the hallways forever.

He pushed the door open slowly, just in case he had the wrong room, and sighed as he was met with a somewhat familiar darkness. However, only once he entered the room did he sense something was terribly wrong.

“Malfoy? Oh _bloody hell!_ ” Harry dashed to the side of the bed where Draco lay curled in fetal position, his unfocused eyes raining down tears. Without a second thought, Harry slid into the bed, pulling the unresponsive blond onto his lap, cradling him like he would a frightened child.

“I’m sorry Malfoy, I’m so sorry. I didn’t think…Merlin, I’m an idiot! I’m sorry, please stop crying I won’t leave you again,” Harry whispered soothingly, running a hand through Draco’s hair like he had earlier, trying to calm the boy down. Only once Draco’s sobs subsided did Harry realize what a strange situation this was. He cleared his throat awkwardly, trying to break the pressing silence, but to no avail.

Draco, who’s pain had subsided the instant Harry came in contact with him, was absolutely humiliated.

“Shut up, Potter, I’m fine now. And I wasn’t crying!”

Draco’s voice was rough and weak, but Harry still flinched at the harsh tone before sighing when he realized it was just the old, cocky Malfoy coming back. Still, it was somewhat embarrassing to be cradling a boy his same age on his bed in the middle of the night.

“Sure you’re weren’t, Malfoy. So you’re saying you’d be fine if I let go of you right now, then?” Harry slightly relaxed the grip he had around Draco’s shoulders teasingly, but instantly felt guilty when he felt the boy tense up and cling to his shirt.

“That isn’t funny, Potter. Some wizarding hero you are!”

“Hey, I’m here aren’t I? Helping you against my better judgement to keep you from dying in agony? You could at least be somewhat grateful!” Harry’s voice rose against his better judgement with every word.

“For what?! Prolonging my suffering? Can’t I just die free of you and all _your_ people who tore my world apart? This would have never happened if it weren’t for you!”

The two boys were yelling face to face, their foreheads almost touching. Draco was flushed with rage and exhaustion from so much emotional stress after suffering his torture for so long and Harry forced himself to take a deep breath. Draco was a prat, but he needed his help whether he wanted it or not.

“What do you mean this would have never happened if it weren’t for me? Do you know what is causing this to happen to you?” Harry gently shook Draco’s shoulder when the boy was unresponsive, opting to turn his face away from Harry’s searching gaze.

“Of course I know, but there’s not like anybody can do anything about it so why should I go around spewing to the world things it has no right knowing? And could you let me go? I just need a hand on your arm, not full body contact, you know.”

Harry blushed slightly, glad that the room was quite dark as he released Draco from his lap, letting him keep one hand on his arm as he readjusted to sit with his legs crossed on the blankets, turned slightly away.

After a long, awkward silence, Harry spoke hesitantly.

“Well considering I’m pretty much stuck with you for a while at least, it would be nice to know what this whole mess is…” he ran off his sentence, hoping to lure Draco into talking.

Instead, he got a question in return.

“How long were we sleeping anyway?” Draco feigned nonchalance, examining his nails which he couldn’t see in the dark room.

“Well _you_ slept through a whole day and half a night. _I_ on the other hand, woke up about nineteen hours ago and haven’t been able to move since.”

“Well that’s your own bloody fault! Why’d you come snooping around here in the first place? Looking for dirt to sell to the Daily Prophet, were you? Couldn’t keep your nose out of our business and leave well enough alone?”

“I was sent here by your _father,_ a fact you seem strangely oblivious to since you were here when he told me to take care of you with his dying breath. So if you want to know why I was called here by him it might help if you told me why the hell I had to be here in the first place and why I’m acting like a pain tranquilizer!”

Draco flinched at the mention of his father’s death. Taking a breath to steady himself, which he hoped Harry didn’t hear, he managed to say, “A what?”

“It’s a muggle invention. That’s besides the point! You have information and you could at least have the courtesy to share it!”

“Why should I tell you?! It’s not like you or anybody else cares! The world just wants to be rid of me, don’t you get it? I’m the _only one left_! Just leave here and let me die in peace!”

Draco’s voice grew steadily louder until he was shouting, or at least trying to. His voice grated and cracked with every word and Harry was sure his throat was bleeding.

“Calm down. I already told you I’m not leaving you again.”

“How reassuring. I’m sure that will last at least a heroic few hours until you have to take an emergency piss again.”

As much as Harry hated the biting sarcasm, he was almost glad that the old Malfoy was still powering strong through all this. The sobbing, weak boy earlier could never be able to embrace and endure whatever pain and suffering was coming his way.

“Well, can you at least tell me why _I’m_ here? I don’t need your whole backstory or anything. I just kind of want to know why…”

“...it’s always you?” Draco finished Harry’s sentence, coughing harshly afterward. “I would like to know that too.”

Harry was about to ask what Draco meant by that last comment, but Draco held up his free hand when he heard Harry begin to talk.

“I swear, Potter, if you breathe a word of what I’m going to tell you to the mediwizards, I will make the rest of your life hell. Comprendé?”

Harry nodded his consent, waiting for Draco to continue. Instead of speaking, however, Draco rolled up the sleeve of his shirt, pressing his knee against Harry’s leg when he had to break the contact with his hands. He grabbed Harry’s hand and placed it on his bare arm, closing his eyes and waiting for Harry to realize what he was touching.

“Is that your--”

“Dark mark. Yeah.”

Harry withdrew his hand swiftly from the skin that was raised in a pattern he knew all too well. He felt that his hand had been tainted, but then realized that that reaction was exactly what Draco had been fearing.

“Okay… so?”

“ _So_ you know the Dark Lord branded all his followers with the Dark Mark, using it to summon them and torture them when necessary, right? Well he apparently put another curse on us at the same time. A curse that made it so if he were to be defeated, his followers would die off as well.”

Harry’s eyebrows shot up his forehead. _No way! Not that I wouldn’t expect something that from Voldemort, but kill off his own followers through torture?_ Realizing Draco was waiting for a response, Harry came back from his own thoughts.

“Is that it?” he asked lamely, not sure what to say.

“Isn’t that enough?! His most devout Death Eaters were the first to go, dying in less painful manners. The rest of us, got varying degrees of pain and suffering leading to their demise.”

“Does that mean you’re one of his least supportive, uh, supporters?”

“Your eloquence astounds me, Potter.”

“I’ll take that as a yes.”

Draco merely grunted in response, rolling his sleeve back down and replacing his hand on Harry’s arm.

“Father and I had been trying to escape the Dark Lord’s ranks before the final battle. He was tired of the way we were treated and feared that we would be killed. My father may have been an awful man in your eyes, but at least he tried to keep his family safe, even if it meant his own life would be taken. That’s why our family is--was--the last one standing. And it’s also why we all went through such agony.

“Father had the worst of it; he was supposed to die last, after watching his family be tortured to death one by one until he was alone. He was trying to poison himself to keep the misery away, since he wasn’t going through any life-threatening pain caused by the curse yet, but all it did was make life shorter and worse for Mother and I. She died first, her skin caught fire suddenly one afternoon and she was burned alive. My torture was meant to be slow and drawn out, but then Father realized that one person might save me: the killer of the Dark Lord.

“So he called for you to come and you came like an absolute idiot right before all my suffering could have ended in my death. So now I must live in the dark; not knowing when I’ll die or if the suffering will continue, left in the hands of my enemy. That must have been why Father was able to die: seeing me under your care would be similar enough to me being dead to him.”

Harry sat in silence, trying to take in all the information. Draco had been right about one thing, the mediwizards couldn’t know. No matter what kind of precautionary measures they would take, somebody would give the information to the wrong person and Harry couldn’t even begin to imagine what Rita Skeeter would do with a scoop like _that_. 

“So now what? Do we try to counteract the curse? Or do we just wait around for you to die?

“Well since the first is impossible and the second is improbable since I doubt you will stick around for that long, I think we should sleep some more.”

With that, Draco turned away from Harry, still holding one of his arms and dragging the appendage with him so the dark haired wizard was unintentionally forced to lay back down with an arm draped around Draco’s shoulders. He tried to pull away, but the boy was already back asleep, still drained from the trauma he had endured.

_I guess we will just have to wait for something to happen. Though I hope it doesn’t take too long…_


	4. Chapter 4

“Ouch! Malfoy watch your elbows! Could you let go of my hand for _one second?_ Seriously, you don’t have to pull me _through_ your shirt!”

“Oh shut up, Potter. Here, give me your other hand or something so I can get this all the way off. Stop being a pansy it’s not like I’m _naked_ or anything. Yet.”

Harry stuck out his tongue at Draco and stepped on the blond’s bare foot, wrenching his hands out of Malfoy’s grasp and flinging the disgusting shirt to the floor.

“Well…I guess you could do that too…”

After being stuck in bed with Draco as he slept for almost two days straight, Harry was forced to accompany the boy as he took his first shower in…how long? Harry didn’t even want to think about it. All he knew was that after the initial shock of the situation evaporated, he realized that Draco _reeked_.

That didn’t mean that he was willing to get in a shower with him.

“You may as well take off your shirt too while your arms are free, Potter. Unless you’re _shy_ or something.”

Harry looked at the floor, hiding his blush. Of course he wasn’t shy exactly. He had been shirtless around Ron quite too often for shyness. But that was his best friend, who was kind, or smart, enough to not comment on any of Harry’s imperfections. Life hadn’t left Harry without scars, but while everybody knew about the one on his head, not many people were aware of the others.

“Can’t I just stand out here and, like, put a hand on your shoulder while you shower and then we switch places,” Harry asked the floor tiles, earning an impatient huff from Draco.

“Oh cut it out would you? You can’t be _that_ self conscious. I mean look at me? I look like something death chewed up and spat back out and I don’t give a fuck!”

Harry glanced up at Draco’s malnourished frame and tried not to wince at the fact that he could count each and every one of his ribs just by looking at them.

_Wait,_ Harry’s thoughts interrupted his observations. _Is Malfoy trying to_ comfort _me?_

Draco saw the look on his face and snorted in amusement.

“I want to bloody _shower_ , Potter. So before you get any weird ideas in your head about me being a nice person you better reflect on the fact that it has been _months_ since I last had this opportunity. And, well, you don’t smell all that good either.”

“Shut up, you probably can’t even smell anything but yourself right now--Malfoy! Stop!”

It was too late; Draco had taken advantage of Harry’s lapse in defense and used the wand hidden in his back pocket to vanish the protesting boy’s shirt.

“Now then. That wasn’t so bad. That shirt was ugly as hell anyway, so I did a service getting rid of it for you. Now then. Are you going to take off the rest of your clothes, or shall they meet the same fate?”

After quite a bit of yelling and Harry forever losing his favorite underwear, the boys were standing back to back under the stream of hot water. Harry had his back arched awkwardly, giving his best attempt to avoid accidentally grinding his butt against Draco’s while their shoulders still touched as they scrubbed the sweat and grime off of themselves.

“What’s the matter, Potter? You seem ridiculously self conscious for being the Golden Boy.”

Harry straightened up a little, feeling suddenly awkward. Why _was_ he freaking out so much? Draco was right when he pointed out that he himself looked like hell, but for some reason, Harry had been expecting that. Not many people expected anything secretive about Harry, especially now that the war was over and there was no reason for him to hide.

“It’s nothing for you to worry about,” Harry finally replied, trying to rinse the shampoo out of his hair without breaking contact with Draco.

“Well you know a bunch of my problems now, don’t ya? So why can’t I know some of yours in return?”

Harry ground his teeth. He did _not_ want to have this conversation with Malfoy at all. Especially since he was lacking pants.

“Come _on_!” Draco elbowed him in the side from behind. “Stop being so high and mighty, Potter. Why won’t you tell me?!”

“Because you’re a--”

Harry bit his tongue before the words could make it out of his mouth, but it was too late. Draco could easily fill in the rest and Harry felt the blond’s back stiffen against his.

_Oh shit oh shit oh shit oh shit Harry you idiot!_

Harry waited for the yelling to start again, but all Draco replied with was a quiet “I see,” before they both finished their shower and clambered into their towels. Draco silently led the way from the bathroom, loosely holding Harry’s wrist with one hand and staring straight ahead.

They got dressed without speaking, the exception being when Harry had to awkwardly ask to borrow clothes to replace his vanished ones. Once both were presentable, the silence was stifling.

“So. Uh. I’m going to have to go back to my house and get some things… or, I mean, you can come live there too, we don’t have to stay here if you don’t want to it’s your decision I don’t want to force you to live where you don’t want to and--”

“Harry,” Harry was shocked out of his ramble. Did Malfoy really just use his first name? Was that even allowed?

“Er… yes M--Draco?” The name felt strange on his tongue and even though they weren’t facing each other directly, Harry saw Malfoy smirk slightly.

“We need to talk, okay? And none of this bullshit about not being able to trust me because of… what I was. The Dark Lord,”

“Voldemort,” Harry corrected on impulse, causing Draco to flinch slightly.

“Yeah, him. Well, he’s gone if you hadn’t noticed. Which you might not have, I mean, you’ve never been the brightest after all,” Draco chuckled glancing at Harry’s “you’re a douchebag” expression out of the corner of his eye before continuing.

“But in all seriousness, it’s past and we can’t really help being on different sides. We were born into it after all. So really, we’re enemies because people forced us to be, right?”

“Merlin, you’re so full of it, Mal--Draco. We’re enemies because you were meaner than a blast-ended skrewt to my friends and I the whole time we were at Hogwarts. Or don’t you remember that detail?”

“Well you weren’t exactly peachy to me either! I asked to be friends the second we got to the school but _nooo_ the Golden Boy was too good for somebody like _me_.”

“That’s a lie and you know it! You were such a prat back then!”

“How are you so sure that I still am?!”

“Because you’re Malfoy!”

“And that’s the only reason why we hate each other, isn’t it?”

Harry took a deep breath and forced himself to calm down. The hand on his wrist was tight enough to cut off circulation to his hand, but Harry refused to yank his arm away. As much as he didn’t like Malfoy, he would keep to his promise to never make him suffer like he had earlier.

After a few minutes to cool off, Harry stomached his pride and faced Draco directly.

“Yes. It is.”

“Then allow me to re-introduce myself,” Draco stuck out a hand and raised his eyebrows encouragingly at Harry.

“I am Draco. _Just_ Draco. And you are?”

“Harry. Just Harry,” Harry took Draco’s outstretched hand with his wrist still being held. It all felt rather stupid to him, but he realized what was going on. They were starting 100% fresh. Without the war or anything hanging over them. To Harry it felt strangely refreshing. Of course, they _were_ in the war and were rivals, but when they were here by themselves, none of that had to be a part of _this._ Whatever _this_ was anyway.

Draco released Harry’s wrist and smiled slightly, shaking hands longer than necessary.

“Nice to meet you, Harry. Now, please take me away from this god-awful house. I don’t care where we go, as long as we leave before the mediwizards are back and as long as food is involved at some point in the near future.”

Harry smirked at Draco’s demanding tone. _Freaking prat,_ he thought, but not in a condescending way.

“I don’t know, Draco. Are you sure you don’t want to hang around for a while? I’m sure they’ll have tons of fun trying to prescribe our weird connection. We don’t want to deny them that do we?”

“You’re still wearing my underwear, Harry.”

Harry blushed and cleared his throat before releasing Draco’s hand to grab his wrist instead. 

“Who needs science and shit anyway? I always was horrid at potions and all that. Grab some clothes so we don’t have to hurry back. The mediwizards said they’d be returning around 11, so we have 15 minutes to get the hell out of here.”

Harry allowed himself to be dragged all over the manor as Draco grabbed a seemingly random assortment of things that he shoved hastily into Harry’s free arm. Finally, they reached the fireplace from which Harry arrived. Draco grasped a messy handful of floo powder and pulled them both into the flames. They heard appirition _cracks_ just as Draco flung down the powder and Harry yelled “Grimmauld Place!”

In a swirl of green flames, the two wizards left Malfoy Manor and a flurry of confused mediwizards behind.

* * *

 

The somewhat peculiar good mood Draco was in seemed to slowly evaporate as the days progressed at Grimmauld Place, and Harry couldn’t figure out exactly what was wrong with the boy--excluding the obvious. He had seemed so tickled by the fact that Harry lived in the Black household--all the purebloods were related and whatnot and Draco’s family used to visit Grimmauld Place in the far past--and even more delighted when Harry introduced him to Kreacher, who bent himself backwards from the minute a “pure wizard” entered the long deprived house.

However, after the initial fun of ordering around Kreacher and mocking Harry’s modest living conditions--in a “friendly” way Harry was reminded constantly--Draco’s mood seemed to take a turn for the worse, especially whenever he was reminded how absolutely helpless he was without his human pain shield.

After almost a week of Draco moping around the house, refusing to eat anything other than what was necessary to keep himself from starving and only showering because he was forced to by Harry, the dark-haired wizard had enough. 

Draco had promised that they would talk anyway, right? So there was no time like the present in his opinion!

“So, M--Draco,” Harry started nervously as the two sat on the couch in his drawing room, their feet touching. He still hadn’t entirely gotten used to using Draco’s first name, but he was trying his hardest to keep up the shaky truce formed what felt like forever ago.

“What?” Draco sighed, glaring through the thin window curtains at the empty street below. All the muggles seemed to deem the stormy weather as an omen to remain indoors today.

“So I uh… noticed that you haven’t… been yourself recently…”

There was no response other than Draco boring holes in the window with his eyes as if he wanted it to explode. Harry took a deep breath.

“And, well, I was wondering...why?”

“What do you mean ‘myself’? You never got to know me before so what do you have to base my personality on?” Draco snarled at the window as he agitatedly pulled on a loose string hanging out of the couch cushion.

“Well you’ve been telling me that you’re not as obnoxious as I should assume, so going right back to the way you used to be when we were first years isn’t really convincing me of anything.”

Harry inwardly berated himself for acting like a little shit to Draco again, but he really couldn’t seem to help it when the blond was acting this way.

“Well just because you can’t remember what it was like doesn’t mean… never mind. I don’t want to talk about this with you.”

Draco made to stand up, but he froze as he remembered that he was basically chained to Harry, so he settled for glaring out the window again at the rain that had just begun to fall. Harry stared out for a moment as well as he tried to cool his thoughts. Finally, he spoke.

“What do you mean I don’t remember? Remember what? If you’re going to go back on the truce--or whatever that was--then just let me know, but life is going to be miserable for both of us if we don’t talk about anything, you know.”

“Well then how about you start. Since you know pretty much everything about my awful life so far, I think I should know something about you as well.”

“Like…

“Hell if I know, Potter--sorry, _Harry_.

“Well then what is it that I can’t remember that you were going on about?”

“That would defeat the purpose of you going first and you know it.”

“You’re acting like a child.”

“You’re being nosy!”

“Well I have to be when it comes to talking to you!”

_Pop!_

“Kreacher heard the master shouting at Pureblood Malfoy Sir. Can Kreacher be of assistance to the Malfoy Sir?”

“Get out of here Kreacher!”

“As Master Potter wishes. Loathing half-blood master tainting poor pureblood Mr Malfoy.”

Harry pinched the bridge of his nose and took a deep breath.

“Just forget it, alright? I just didn’t want you being so depressed looking all the time. I mean, it must suck being stuck with me and all, so I don’t blame you all that much. But still…”

“Harry, you saved my bloody, worthless life. I don’t _like_ living with you exactly, but it doesn’t suck _that_ much. It’s just… I know my father was an awful person and all, but I can’t help but miss them…”

“And I wouldn’t know what it feels like since my parents died when I was a baby, right?”

“Yeah, I guess that’s where I was going with that. I’m just not used to talking to anybody, you know? Well, you probably don’t know. You’ve been with Dumbledore your whole life, haven’t you?”

Harry turned and faced Draco when he heard the last, nearly whispered, sentence.

“I’m sorry, what was that? I didn’t meet Dumbledore until I came to Hogwarts! I didn’t even know wizards existed until I was eleven!”

“What?!” Draco looked absolutely shocked. “You mean to tell me that you were absolutely clueless about who you were your whole childhood? The Dark Lor--Voldemort,” Draco shuddered slightly, “told us that you were raised by Dumbledore himself in preparation for killing us all!”

“Well that explains one of the reasons you hated me so much, huh? And just for your information, it’s not like I never knew my parents; I’ve seen them multiple times, they’re just ghosts. So in reality, I get to see what we could have been snatched from me time and time again. I know what you’re going through, Draco.”

“How is that even possible? No spell can reawaken the dead,” Draco turned back to the window.

“Strange things seem to happen to me all the time,” Harry poked Draco’s side teasingly and flinched when the blond spazzed dramatically.

“Wha...me? Strange? And don’t tickle me, Harry. That is completely uncalled for!”

Harry chuckled before attacking Draco’s side with both hands, gaining a very un-Malfoy-like squeal in response as Draco tried to twist away from Harry’s hands.

“Potter! Wha--what is the meaning of t-this! Stop this a-at once!”

The two boys rolled off the couch and onto the floor where they lay laughing, connected by Harry’s hands still resting on Draco’s stomach.

_Pop!_

Kreacher has prepared lunch for the...is this a bad time? Kreacher offers his sincerest apologies.”

“Damn it, Kreacher! We’ll come downstairs when we want lunch!”

_Pop!_

“Well,” Draco sat up and smoothed his expensive green shirt with one hand while he rested his other on Harry’s arm. “That was slightly awkward.”

“Sorr--”

“Not you…” Draco turned his face away quickly, but not before Harry saw his light blush.

“I mean,” the blond continued, “friends do that, right? Mess around with each other? I never really had that kind of friendship with anybody. It’s kind of fun, in it’s own way. But nobody is to hear of this, alright!” Draco’s tone suddenly went from serious to joking. “What would people do if they discovered my one weakness!”

Draco turned back to Harry and stuck out his tongue at the boy who still laid sprawled on the floor.

“If only I had known of this sooner! It would have saved me a lot of trouble!”

“Yeah, maybe you wouldn’t have used that dreadful curse on me in the bathroom fifth year, huh?” Draco’s voice held old bitterness, but wasn’t meant to be entirely hostile. Harry, however, sat up and faced him with a serious expression.

“I didn’t know what that spell did. All Snape wrote about it was that it was for enemies and, well, we were enemies then. I am really truly sorry for what it did to you, though.”

“Oh come off it Potter,” Draco snickered, standing up and pulling Harry to his feet. “It happened and is over with. Now, let’s go get some lunch.”


	5. Chapter 5

It had been several weeks since Draco had come to stay with Harry, and while initially there had been more awkward moments than not when it came to getting to know how to live with one another, they seemed to finally be establishing a routine.

They would spend most of the week at Grimmauld Place, talking or reading or otherwise wasting the summer away while becoming more comfortable with one another. Harry’s bedroom had become more Slytherin-looking than it probably ever had with Sirius as its previous occupant as Draco began bringing his belongings over. When they weren’t at Grimmauld Place, they would be at Malfoy Manor, sorting through room after room of priceless items Draco didn’t want to be associated with anymore. And for the first time in his life, nobody could tell him what to do with the pureblood artifacts since he now was the sole owner of the house and the bearer of the Malfoy name.

All was quite peaceful between them. Sure, they had their spats and quarrels, but the only time there was ever an actual issue between the boys was when Draco informed Harry that he’d have to go to St Mungo’s for blue-balls if he didn’t figure out a way to get off. Thus, the two added the time where they stood back-to-back in the shower to take care of themselves while doing their best to ignore the noises coming from each other into their routine. Harry was still incredibly self-conscious of the imperfections on his body, but Draco had gotten the picture the first time they had showered and never really bothered Harry about it again, turning away to grant a semblance of privacy. In return, Harry never looked at or mentioned Draco’s dark mark.

However, this little period of calm was shattered two weeks before the end of summer by an impatient tapping on Draco’s bedroom window. The two boys were lounging in various states of consciousness in Draco’s massive bed, not accepting the fact that they’d have to get up. On their first trip back to the manor, Draco had made short work of all the medical equipment in his bedroom, telling St Mungo’s to come clear it out and never return or he’d vanish everything. It had taken them a while to actually sleep at the manor however; Draco was adamant that there were several malevolent spirits that roamed around the halls at night (which Harry had never seen or heard despite Draco’s claims), but Harry knew the boy just had reservations about sleeping in the bed he had been stuck in for several months and spending time in the house his family had perished in so agonizingly. 

“‘arry, there’s an o-o-owl at the window,” Draco yawned, shaking Harry’s shoulder and slowly untangling their legs to move away from where they had basically been spooning. They had learned quite quickly that Draco was a cuddler, which was good in a way because he never accidentally let go of Harry unconsciously, but it also meant they would wake up in compromising positions that usually left them both blushing.

“Then go get it,” Harry groaned, though he was already struggling to roll over and sit up. He tried to shake off the sleep for a few seconds, before slumping back onto the pillows in a very undignified manner. 

“Absolutely unbelievable. I _would_ be stuck with the most non-morning-person possible. I could be up and showered and eating breakfast by the time you get one foot on the floor, you intolerable slug,” Draco sighed with no malice, flicking Harry’s arm before attaching his hand to the Gryffindor’s wrist. Harry just grunted in response, earning a snort of sarcastic laughter from Draco before the blond summoned a house elf to open the window and grant access to a tiny, tawny, hyperactive owl.

“Aughh what the fuck is this?!” Draco shouted in surprise as he was dive bombed by the small ball of feathers, waking up Harry who bolted upright just in time to take the full force of the bird’s excited greeting to the side of his head, causing Draco to burst into a fit of laughter.

“Merlin fuckit, that hurt, Pig!” Harry swore, snatching the owl from where it lay dazed on the bedspread. 

“Did you just call that intolerable bird ‘Pig’? Who names their cruddy bird after a pig?” Draco gasped as he tried to regain his composure. 

“Ginny Weasley does apparently. And his actual name is Pigwidgeon, but Ron and I always called him Pig. Did you even bring anything, Pig? Or do you just enjoy ruining people’s sleep by assaulting them?” Harry asked the owl sternly, earning another snicker from Draco. Pig seemed to shake himself off, going right back to his hyperactive hooting and bouncing on Harry’s hand before flapping haphazardly to the floor to retrieve the letter he was sent to deliver.

Harry tore into the envelope, absentmindedly tucking one of his feet under Draco’s leg so he could use both hands to read and hold Pig. Draco watched as Harry’s expression slowly went from bemused to aggravated to exasperated in the span of less than a minute.

“Well? I’m dying of anticipation over here.” Draco prodded at Harry’s side to get the boy to spill what was written on the parchment. After a deep breath, Harry turned to look at Draco.

“Well, Ron and Hermione are back from Romania and they know something’s up. And so does the rest of the wizarding world, apparently. The daily prophet does more snooping than I give them credit for. Hermione sent part of an article about how I’m ordering more groceries than usual to Grimmauld Place and how it’s ‘higher quality than the usual modest tastes of the Golden Boy,’” Harry snickered before his face grew serious again.

“They also noticed that you’ve seemed to have fallen off the face of the planet and most people think you’re dead. The mediwizards are more tightly lipped than I thought they’d be, so nobody’s connected the dots that you’re with me, though Hermione and Ron want to know why I haven’t talked to them at all this summer and if these claims made by the prophet mean anything. Hermione apparently went to Grimmauld place yesterday looking for me, which probably made her danger-radar worse. I should invite her over...you alright with that?”

Draco gave Harry a look that clearly said: “in what world would I ever be okay with that?”

“She’s not going to do or even say anything to you, Draco. You have to understand that Hermione is a very reasonable person and accepts changes really well. She was the one who stuck up the most for Death Eaters after the war while all the trials were going on. In fact, most of the Slytherins that were put under surveillance were liberated because she went in to the ministry itself to fight for their privacy and to try to make everybody see that “the actions of a few do not represent the mindset of the majority.’” Harry tried to do his best impersonation of Hermione to make Draco lighten up, but to no avail. “Besides, she might have some ideas about what’s happening in our situation. Come on, I promise she’s not as awful as you make her out to be at all!”

After several moments of silence on Draco’s part, the blond finally spoke.

“I’m not worried about Hermione. I saw her in the audience at my trial and from what I remember, she kept trying to smile at me because anybody with eyes could see we were suffering. Ron is another story, though. I’m pretty sure he still blames me for everything, especially for us all almost dying in the Room of Requirement.”

“But you didn’t even--”

“It doesn’t matter that I didn’t start the fire. You didn’t see the way he looked at me. It’s like how you treated me back when Dumbledore was killed by Snape. I didn’t do it, but I might as well have at that point for all you cared.”

Harry studied Draco’s face for a moment, absorbing everything he had said. Draco looked so small and lost with his hair sticking up all over from sleeping and his wrinkled white t-shirt hanging off his too-thin shoulders. It almost reminded Harry of the time in he had seen Draco sobbing in the bathroom fifth year. Harry shifted his foot out from under Draco’s leg, grabbing his hands instead and sitting cross-legged across from the blond in the most comforting manner he could manage.

“I know you two don’t like each other, but I mean, I didn’t like you either and look at us now! We can almost deal with each other existing, right?” Harry released a hand to tousle Draco’s awful bedhead, immediately stopping and grinning nervously when he received a chilling glare.

“It’s going to take him a while, and I’m not going to sit here and lie to you that he’ll be thrilled. But we can’t only tell Hermione; they’re practically married and he’d do better seeing us and being able to talk to you than draw his own conclusions from listening to Hermione. Besides, I’m his best friend and he respects me enough to not try anything. And it’s not like you’re going to be left alone with him for any period of time, we are attached after all and I promised you I’d never leave you again.” Harry blushed, feeling rather sappy saying it out loud. But he forced himself to look at Draco and assess the other’s reaction.

“Yeah. I guess it’d be okay if they came over. But I DON’T want them touching me or coming near me for any reason. I don’t know why you make the pain go away, but I don’t want anything changing because somebody else touched me.” Harry wanted to tell Draco that that was a bit ridiculous, but he held his tongue. He didn’t know what Draco went through after all, and if the pain was so terrifying that he was afraid of something so small setting it off then Harry would do what it took to make Draco as comfortable as possible.

“Good! I’ll write Hermione back right now and tell her to come tonight. We’ll just get what we need from here and go back to Grimmauld Place!” Harry had a hard time containing his excitement as he summoned a quill to scratch out a reply on the back of Hermione’s letter and send it off with Pig. He also called for Kreacher and told the elf to make dinner for four that night. 

The two rushed through getting ready for the day, Harry basically dragging Draco to the shower, then back to throw on clothes before running around to collect several of the things Draco had wanted to bring back with them before pulling the amused, yet annoyed, boy with him to the fireplace.

They arrived back at Grimmauld Place in a burst of green flame to the smell of something delicious being prepared by Kreacher.

“Back so soon, Master Harry and Pureblood Mister Malfoy?” Kreacher called from the pantry. 

“Yeah, Kreacher. We’ll be getting ready so don’t bother us until our guests arrive or if I receive an owl, alright?”

Kreacher bowed until his wrinkled old nose scraped the pristine kitchen floor.

“As Master Harry wishes. May Kreacher inquire as to who will be joining us for dinner?”

“No. It’ll be a surprise,” Harry answered quickly before Draco opened his mouth to tell Kreacher who was coming. He received a strange look, but shook his head and mouthed _later_ at Draco before dragging the boy upstairs by his arm. Only once they were in their room with silencing spells intact did Harry smirk at Draco.

“Kreacher should never be told when Hermione is coming over until it’s too late to poison her food in any creative way she couldn’t detect. Ron is technically pureblood, so Kreacher won’t hurt him. He and Hermione don’t get on well at all though, so he doesn’t need to know she’ll be joining us.”

Draco could have laughed at Harry’s serious expression but bit his tongue.

“My ancestors sure knew how to raise an elf to their standards, didn’t they?” he joked, earning a glare as Harry dragged him across the room and faceplanted on the bed, pulling Draco to bend at an awkward angle as he was still holding his wrist.

“Imfnemdnldkncp.”

“What was that, big baby Gryffindor?” Draco laughed, sitting on the bed next to Harry.

“I need a nap before dealing with all this bull shit,” Harry mumbled.

“You’ve got to be shitting me. We already slept like nine hours last night. What the fuck is wrong with you? Why are you so damn tired?”

“I am a man, and a man needs his noontime nonny. Nothing wrong with that.” Harry stuck out his tongue at Draco, who rolled his eyes before standing and causing Harry to dump onto the floor dramatically. 

“Don’t we have things to do to get ready for them to come over? Do they even know I’m here??” Draco looked quite alarmed at this realization and stared at Harry’s nonchalant expression.

“Eh they’ll figure it out soon enough. It’s better not to tell Ron ahead of time; he’ll just come up with more ammunition to unload on you once he gets here. And no theres nothing to do? They’re just coming over for dinner. Why? Are you nervous?”

“Of course I’m fucking nervous! Anything could happen! What if Ron tries to tackle me when he walks in the door or we otherwise get separated? Then I’ll be a writhing helpless mess and I _don’t_ want to be that in front of somebody who hates me so absolutely. How are you _not_ nervous?” Draco spat at Harry, who stood up with some help from the hand clenching his wrist.

“Hey, you need to calm down. Ron won’t try to pull anything, and if he does I’ll be sure to be between you two since I know he won’t hurt me. I hope.” Harry tried to smile at Draco, but he was not having any of it.

With a sigh, Harry dragged Draco beside him onto the bed. The Slytherin was tensed up, glancing at Harry warily.

“Seriously dude, you need to calm down. Nothing bad will happen if you don’t make Ron go on guard by acting like you have a massive pole up your ass. Now come on. I actually do need a nap before they get here and you need to relax so I propose some extremely manly cuddling as we wait for them to show up. Does that sound okay?”

Harry could have sworn Draco was actually pouting, but he did finally lay down next to Harry, who immediately made good on his promise and snuggled up on the pissed blond in the most obnoxious way possible before passing out in less than two minutes. 

Draco lay awake for much longer than Harry, though. Thoughts about what lay in store for him with the arrival of the missing parts of the golden trio ran rampant through his calculative mind until he finally forced his eyes closed, focused on Harry’s heavy breathing on his neck, and gave in to the tranquility unconsciousness promised.


	6. Chapter 6

“Shhhh, Hermione! Don’t be so loud or we won’t be able to surprise him!”

“But Ronald, what if he doesn’t want to be surprised?”

“Sod off, he hasn’t seen us all summer! I’m allowed to give him a bit of a scare, aren’t I? He’ll get over it if he gets pissed.”

Draco barely had time to register the whispers coming from the other side of the door disturbing his sleep before he heard a latch turning. With the adrenaline only pure terror could bring, he tried to wrestle himself out of Harry’s embrace but only ended up with the both of them rolling off the edge of the bed facing away from the door. He landed with a very heavy, still sleeping wizard and all the blankets from the bed on top of him.

“Surprise!” Draco heard Ron yell as he burst through the door. “Harry? Mate where are you?”

“Whaddayouwha?” Harry leapt off Draco, who had expected this reaction and grabbed a leg before the shocked Harry got too far.

“Harry!” Ron and Hermione exclaimed in unison, Hermione laughing quietly at Harry’s rumpled clothes and hair as the boy tried to get a baring on his surroundings. He took a second to look down at Draco and give him what he hoped was a reassuring smile before meeting his friend’s expectant eyes.

“How’ve you been, mate? You mind explaining to us why you’ve been ignoring us all summer? Is it so difficult to write?” Ron asked with no real malice as he plopped down on the recently vacated bed. Draco flinched at Ron’s proximity, and Harry had to resist the urge to glance down at the disheveled wizard. 

Harry shrugged and managed to look slightly abashed. “I just haven’t gotten around to replacing Hedwig. It feels wrong for some reason,” he said truthfully. Draco rolled his eyes, getting tired of laying on the floor in such an undignified manner. He tightened his grip on Harry’s ankle, trying to send the message to speed this heartwarming greeting along.

Ron and Hermione both glanced at one another in understanding and fell into silence for a moment, neither knowing what to say. Finally, Hermione turned back to Harry and smiled gently.

“I’m famished, how about we go downstairs and eat dinner? We’ll tell you all about Romania and--”

Hermione wasn’t able to finish her sentence, for at that moment the dust hiding under Harry’s bed decided to attack Draco’s nose and he let out a massive sneeze, making Ron jump half a foot in the air in surprise. Harry smiled sheepishly at his startled friends as Draco sneezed twice more, nobody moving until something seemed to click in Hermione’s head.

“Um, Harry. If you had someone in the room with you, you should have locked the door,” she said with slight embarrassment, turning lightly pink at her own implication. Ron just looked dumbly at his girlfriend, not quite getting what she was saying. It took Harry a hot second as well, by which point Draco was sniffling miserably and loudly, glaring up at Harry to speed the fuck up and let him get off the floor. Finally, it seemed to click in the boy-who-lived’s head. 

“Oh Merlin, no Hermione! I don’t have anyone like that!” Harry assured, turning red. “I do have a bit of a surprise for you two though...Ron, please don’t freak out.” 

Only after Ron, who’d been trying to peer over the bed as inconspicuously as possible nodded hesitantly did Harry continue.

“Alright...do you guys remember seeing in the Prophet that all the Death Eaters were being killed off? Well while you were in Romania, they all died. Except for one…” Harry leaned down and grasped Draco’s upper arm, helping the boy stand. Hermione gasped and Ron looked completely shocked. Harry stayed silent, still holding onto Draco’s arm, and waited for Hermione to speak.

“But Harry,” she finally stuttered, “why is he here? And in your bed? Not that I disapprove of whoever you choose to live with, but...I don’t understand?”

Harry chuckled humorlessly, glancing over to see Draco staring determinedly at the corner of the bed and avoiding eye contact with everybody in the room. “Well, apparently I can’t catch a break. If Draco and I aren’t in direct contact at all times, he’ll die slowly and excruciatingly. Lucious figured it out right before he...passed on.” Draco flinched, but did not raise his eyes. “So Draco’ll be staying with me until we either figure out how to fix him or, uh, yeah just until then I guess.” Harry scratched the back of his head with his free hand, staring at Draco until the blond wizard finally turned to meet his eyes.

“Well, I’m very glad you’re here Draco,” Hermione said awkwardly but sincerely after a beat of silence. “Aren’t you glad too, Ron?” she lightly kicked Ron’s leg to snap him out of his shocked state. Ron merely grunted, eyeing Draco warily and Hermione sighed.

“How about we all go discuss this over food. I’m starving,” Hermione smiled tightly at Ron, and more gently at Draco and Harry before leading her boyfriend out of the room and down the stairs. Harry could hear her whispering sternly as they got further away, and he quickly called after them that he and Draco would be down in a moment so Hermione could have time to talk a bit of sense into Ron’s head.

“That was...not as bad as it could have been I suppose. You’re lucky to have Hermione to keep the sanity levels in your group healthy,” Draco finally said, breaking Harry’s grip on his arm and holding his hand instead. Harry was mildly surprised, as Draco usually held his wrist, but he figured he needed the comfort at this point and didn’t say anything, just gently squeezed the hand in his before grabbing his glasses of the bedside table and leading Draco down to the kitchen to meet Ron and Hermione.

It seemed like Harry’s two friends had brought a secret guest of their own as well, and when Harry entered the kitchen and saw the long red hair of Ginny Weasley he stopped short, causing Draco to half run into him.

“Harry!” Ginny exclaimed rushing to hug him but stopping a few feet away when she caught sight of Draco. “What is he doing here!?” 

“Hey Gin, it’s good to see you,” Harry responded, hugging the frozen girl with his free arm and tightening his hold on Draco’s hand behind his back. After a few uncomfortable seconds, Harry released Ginny and pulled Draco fully into the kitchen. He could practically feel Ginny’s eyes zeroing in on their clasped hands and he saw her go slightly pink with anger.

“Well?” she said pointedly, glaring at Draco before turning to Harry and tapping her foot in a very Molly-like way.

“Draco’s under a curse that will kill him if he and Harry aren’t in contact,” Hermione supplied when Harry seemed to be struggling to find words. Ginny seemed to slightly calm at this explanation, but then eyed Draco suspiciously.

“How do you know he isn’t just telling you that to get close enough to hurt you, Harry?” she asked lowly, as if she was trying to keep Draco from hearing.

“I know that isn’t true Ginny. It’s a real curse, go read the Prophet’s awful columns about all the dead Death Eaters if you don’t believe me. And we’re only going to be like this until we,” Harry glanced at Hermione, “figure out how to fix it. So don’t worry.” He smiled gently at Ginny, who’s face finally relaxed and she grinned in return before plopping down at the table. The rest of the group followed suit and Harry didn’t quite catch the dark expression on Draco’s face as they were finally served their meal by a grumbling Kreacher.

Draco sat in silence as he listened absently to the conversation happening around him. Hermione and the Weasleys told Harry about the memorial service they had in Romania with Charlie and how the dragon keeper had told them to send his condolences. In return, Harry explained as much about the curse as he could without breaking Draco’s privacy. Draco felt more and more out of place and rather sick as he listened to Hermione’s speculations about what kind of curse Voldemort could have placed on his followers to cause such agonizing deaths, interrupted every so often by Ron muttering about how they had deserved it. He was also periodically pierced with a glare from Ginny when Harry wasn’t looking, and he knew she wanted to be the one sitting aside her wizarding hero, hands intertwined under the table.

The only one who seemed to not hate him was Hermione, who smiled softly at him every so often and helped loosen the tight feeling in his chest slightly.

After hours of talking that seemed like days to Draco, Ron finally mumbled something about being expected back at the Burrow and raised up from the table with a hearty belch. Hermione rolled her eyes, but confirmed that they had plans with Molly for supper and that she needed to start researching curses. Ron was the first out the door, waiting impatiently on the porch as the two women lingered. Ginny stood silently before Harry, not knowing what to say and Draco was surprised when Hermione came up to him instead of saying goodbye to her friend.

“How are you doing, Draco? I know it must be so hard dealing with this on top of all that’s happened. And I’m so sorry about your parents, I know what it’s like,” she said gently, tearing up slightly at the thought of her parents not even knowing she existed. Draco just smiled grimly and shrugged, stepping back slightly behind Harry so she wouldn’t get any ideas like hugging him. Hermione just nodded knowingly as if she understood his body language perfectly before turning to Harry and hugging him tightly, giving him a kiss on the cheek and waving to Draco as she joined her boyfriend on the porch.

Ginny took a second to stare at Harry sadly before muttering “see you at school” and joining the other two outside so they could all apperate back to the Burrow.

“What did she mean ‘see you at school’?” Draco said warily once the door was closed.

Harry looked at Draco confusedly. “I’m going back to school to repeat the year we all missed because of the war…? Oh yeah, I guess we both have to go back if I go. Is that alright? Term starts in a few weeks and McGonagall already knows I’m going back. I just forgot to bring it up to you.”

“No, that’s not something you ‘just forget to bring up.’ Were you just going to try to trick me into going back with you? I don’t want to go back to Hogwarts; there won’t be any Slytherins and somebody will probably try to kill me within three minutes of walking through the gate. Besides, how would we even stay there? I’m NOT living in a Gryffindor dormitory with all your dumbass friends. And what if somebody tries to separate us? Not only would I be prime target #1 on everybody’s hit list, but I’d also be the new plaything. I can hear them now: ‘Let’s see how we can get Malfoy to let go of our magnificent Harry so we can watch him scream in pain on the floor!’ No. Nuh-uh, no thank you I’m not going back.” Draco said firmly and Harry sighed.

“Draco, that won’t happen. They’d have to get through me first. And I’m sure McGonagall will find living arrangements for us so you don’t have to live in the Gryffindor dorm. And I was going to tell you, I just didn’t know how to bring it up because I knew that this is exactly how you’d react but I need to go back to school in order to get a job as an auror and--”

“How the fuck are you going to be an auror if I’M ATTACHED TO YOU?!” Draco snapped, clenching his fists and causing Harry to wince as his hand was crushed. “Oh right, you’re just stuck with me until Hermione finds the fucking countercurse to get us out of this shit fest. What if Hermione can’t find it though? Huh? Have you thought about that, Potter? Are you just going to let me die so I’ll stop ruining your _perfect_ life so you can get a _perfect_ job as an auror and have lots of _perfect_ brats with the Weaselette? Do you understand that any choice you make is literally life or death for me? Because the way you ramble on to everybody that you’re just _stuck with me_ until I _die_ or am _fixed_ makes me think you don’t understand the gravity of this situation. This is my life too, and I don’t want to spend whatever time I have left being tortured by all the people who only see me as the Death Eater that killed Dumbledore. I’d rather die in _agony_ than go through that, which is a very real option at this point.”

Draco tried to rip his hand from Harry’s, but not even a second after freeing his grasp Harry had his arms tightly around Draco’s waist.

“No, I will not let you do that, Draco. I promised I’d never let you feel that pain again and I’m sticking to that no matter what. We can figure this out, I know we can. I understand that this is your life, and I’m just preparing for whatever happens. I know finding a countercurse for whatever this is is really slim, and I’m fully prepared to stay with you for however long I have to. If that means we’ll be together our entire lives, so be it because I’m not leaving. We just can’t give up hope that we can cure you of this, or at least lessen the effects and let you live longer.” 

Harry smiled down at Draco pressed up against his chest, and to his surprise, the ex-Death Eater leaned into him and rested his face against Harry’s neck, muttering something about stupid optimistic Gryffindors. They stood like this for several minutes until Harry finally broke the silence.

“So I’m going to marry Ginny and have a bunch of ‘perfect brats’ am I? If I didn’t know any better, I’d say you’re jealous,” he joked lightly, causing Draco to turn pink and burrow his face harder against Harry’s neck.

“No fucking way. Draco?” Harry tried to pull the wizard off him in shock, but Draco wound his arms tightly around Harry’s waist and held on with determination. He waited until his face went back to a normal color and until Harry was desperately trying to wrestle out of his hold to see his face before Draco pulled back slightly and winked, chuckling when Harry blushed.

“I’m kidding, Potter. Why? You developing a crush? I mean, I know I’m hot, but try to keep it in your pants; you haven’t even bought me dinner yet” he joked, laughing harder when Harry went from pink to scarlet.

“Am not! Don’t pull stuff like that on me, I can never tell when you’re joking!” Harry sputtered and Draco finally released his grip and grabbed Harry’s hand again.

After a thoughtful pause, Draco spoke again. “Well you’ll have to get used to that when we go back to Hogwarts. Chances are, everybody is going to assume we’re a couple if we go around holding hands and sleeping in the same bed.” Harry took a second to process Draco’s words before he grinned hugely, jumping slightly in excitement.

“You mean it?! You’ll go back to school with me?! Merlin, thank you so much Draco, you’re the best!”

“Oh hush, you’re making me all flustered,” Draco responded, waving Harry off before the boy started hugging him again. “But we must get our own room and bathroom. And if anybody comes even _close_ to separating us, we’re going straight back to the manor and becoming rich, antisocial cat ladies for the rest of our lives. Deal?”

“Deal! Let’s go shopping!”


	7. Chapter 7

Their plan, since term was still several weeks away, was to get done all their shopping early so as to avoid the masses of returning Hogwarts students for as long as was possible. Early the morning after their dinner with the Weasleys and Hermione, Harry flooed the Burrow and asked a delighted Molly to let Ron and Hermione know that he’d be doing his shopping around noon if they wanted to meet him in Diagon Alley. He didn’t mention Draco, as he wasn’t sure what her children had filled her in on and he would rather introduce him officially in person when it came to that. 

After saying goodbye at least five times and promising to visit before the end of summer at least twice as much, Harry ended the call and pulled back from the flames to where he was kneeling on the floor of the kitchen of Grimmauld place, Draco sitting and looking bored on the floor beside him, both boys still in their pajamas. 

“Are you sure this is a good idea, Harry? Even if it is way earlier than usual for shopping, there’s bound to be throngs of people. We could just order my elves to pick up everything for us…”

“I have to get new robes fitted because most of mine got destroyed or lost in the past year since I wasn’t exactly in good living conditions. And besides, being outside will probably do you some good; we’ve been cooped up in our houses for far too long I’m starting to go stir crazy. Oh, and the daily prophet may as well get their scoop now so nobody is snooping around Hogwarts later. But seriously Draco,” Harry smiled softly at Draco’s tense expression, “it’s going to be absolutely fine. Nobody will mess with us, especially if Ron and Hermione are there too.”

Draco made a face and Harry sighed patiently.

“You may as well get used to being seen with us. Ron, Hermione, and I are a package deal. I do believe Snape once called us ‘The Gryffindor Dream Team.’” Harry chuckled and Draco rolled his eyes, but his shoulders relaxed slightly.

“As long as Weasley doesn’t try to pick a fight. Hexes I can handle; I’ll just step behind you and let you be my human shield,” Harry flicked Draco lightly on the nose and Draco swatted his hand away. “But Ron, as I’ve gathered from my many bloody noses over the years, is a physical being. If he tries to start a fist fight I don’t know what I’ll do…it won’t be happy for either of us. I can promise that.”

“Well then I expect if you’re on your best behavior, so will Ron. Hermione will play peacekeeper anyway, so you’d have to get him incredibly riled to get any response. And no that is _not a challenge_!” Draco stuck out his tongue at Harry, who chuckled and stood, gripping Draco’s hand and pulling the boy up with him. They walked through the kitchen, Harry stopping to call Kreacher and tell the elf to prepare breakfast for them when they were done getting ready for the day. 

Once that was settled, Harry almost dragged Draco upstairs, his excitement to go to Diagon Alley for the fist time in what felt like forever getting the better of him. Draco grumbled about hyperactive Gryffindors, but allowed himself to be pulled into the bathroom, where they began the process of getting ready that had become so monotonous there was hardly any embarrassment anymore. 

While Draco brushed his teeth, Harry used the loo next to the sink, Draco’s hand resting on his shoulder, and then they switched. The shower was turned on, Harry stepped on Draco’s foot lightly as they stripped their shirts without looking at one another, then their pants were pulled to their ankles and their hands deftly entwined for balance so they could step out of them and into the shower. Draco had bewitched the shower so water fell from seemingly nowhere on the side opposite the real shower head and the boys faced away from each other, heels touching as they washed quickly and effectively. Once they were done, they grabbed towels on their respective sides of the shower--green for Draco, red for Harry--and exited the shower holding hands again.

Getting dressed occurred in much the same fashion as undressing, though Draco took considerably longer, using a series of drying spells and de-wrinkling charms to perfect his hair and clothes that were much tidier than Harry’s usual jeans and loose cotton t-shirts. Harry would usually just stand to the side with a hand on Draco’s shoulder or the back of his neck where he’d be out of the way, chuckling to himself as he watched Draco’s daily sprucing process in slight fascination. Today, Draco was taking longer than usual, making sure his already flawless appearance was absolutely perfect, lest anybody they encountered when out in the public eye began to get ideas that he had slipped from his old ways, at least fashion-wise.

After assuring Draco multiple times that he looked exactly like the pretentious prick he always was and earning several glares and the threat of a range of curses, the two boys finally returned to the kitchen for a breakfast of eggs and sausage served by a grumbling Kreacher. 

Breakfast was interrupted by Pigwidgeon, who rocketed down the chimney and collided with the leg of the table where the boys were sitting with their legs touching. Draco plucked the dazed owl off the floor and removed the note from its beak before dropping it on Harry’s lap for the wizarding hero to resuscitate.

Harry gently stroked the owl’s belly as he listened to Draco, who was reading the note aloud. He confirmed that Hermione, Ron, and Ginny would be meeting them at Diagon Alley in the Leaky Cauldron at noon so they could get lunch before the shopping commenced. Harry didn’t miss how Draco’s expression turned slightly sour at the mention that Ginny would be joining them as well, and he poked at him about being jealous once more. Draco only rolled his eyes in response, muttering under his breath how he didn’t want to be the weird third wheel that also would be holding Harry’s hand. Harry laughed and told Draco that Ginny would more likely look like the third wheel as he could let go of her at some point. Draco brightened noticeably at that comment, which Harry pretended not to notice.

They cheerfully bantered over tea as they waited for the time to pass until they could justify leaving, Harry trying to keep Draco’s mind off the fact that they’d be out in the public eye shortly by starting lighthearted arguments over random topics and continuing to dig at Draco’s supposed jealousy over Ginny. It was only when there was a lull in the conversation as Draco sipped his tea that Harry had an abrupt realization.

“I wonder if they’ll even let me into Gringotts anymore, I’m sure they won’t be happy at all to see me,” he exclaimed, sitting back as he considered the amount of damage he caused last time he had set foot in the bank.

“What in Merlin’s beard are you talking about? Did you rob it or something?” Draco joked, though his smile melted into a face of shock at Harry’s guilty expression.

“Last time I was there, we might have preformed the imperius curse on a goblin, broken into a maximum security vault or two, and escaped on a stolen dragon with some of Bellatrix’s prized possessions.” Harry shrugged, acting nonchalant to get a rise out of Draco, who merely sat looking stunned. After several minutes he shook his head in amazement.

“One of these days, you better tell me about all the crazy shit you did when you were on the lam, Potter. You’re absolutely mad and I don’t rightfully understand how you’re still alive.”

“I’m magic,” Harry responded without thinking, the muggle expression sounding incredibly stupid. He looked at Draco, who’s look positively screamed _no shit, Sherlock._ Harry opened his mouth to explain that he wasn’t a moron, but he caught sight of the grandfather clock in the hall past Draco and his mouth closed and turned into a grin. 

“It’s fifteen till noon, let’s go!” he exclaimed, brimming with excitement as he leapt out of his chair and grabbed Draco’s hand tightly, calling to Kreacher that they’d be back for dinner as he hurried to the door to side-by-side disapparate. 

Draco closed his eyes as he held tightly to Harry’s arm, the last thing he saw was the peeling paint on the front door of Grimmauld place before the uncomfortable tugging in his gut told him they had left the tranquility of being hermits behind. When his eyes reopened, he was standing in an empty alleyway facing the brightly sunlit cobblestone street that was Diagon Alley. He could positively feel the excited energy radiating from Potter in waves, but he himself only felt a sense of cold dread that sat heavily in the pit of his stomach.

People ambled leisurely along Diagon Alley, clutching parcels and gazing in windows, all chatting noisily to their friends. Luckily, the majority of the shops tucked along the cobblestone street had reopened again after the war ended, with the exception of Weasley’s Wizard Wheezes **,** Olivanders, and a couple others. In the minute or so of standing, hidden in the alley, Draco counted at least ten teenagers who were obviously shopping for school supplies and his hopes that they would beat the crowd of Hogwarts students evaporated instantly.

Harry, however, seemed completely at ease and began tugging Draco impatiently when the blond boy made no indication that he was planning on moving anytime soon. 

“You alright, Draco? The Leaky Cauldron is just to the right of the alley, and it’s bound to be less crowded than the street. You don’t...need to go back, do you?” Harry looked crestfallen at this suggestion and Draco grit his teeth.

“Don’t be ridiculous,” Draco spat, straightening up and putting on his trademark Malfoy glower as he released Harry’s arm in favor of clutching his wrist instead. Harry merely shrugged, not entirely sure how to respond to Draco’s instant shift in personality, and led the stiff blond out of the alley and into the busy street.

Draco was relieved when nobody immediately noticed them, and quickly took the lead so he was dragging Harry as quickly as was inconspicuous down the short expanse of street and into the safe darkness that was the Leaky Cauldron. Not surprisingly, the rest of the Golden Trio, plus Ginny, was already seated at one of the tables, their heads bent together as they talked in hushed voices. They immediately straightened when Harry called out a greeting and he and Draco approached, Hermione looking faintly guilty before smiling brightly and rising up from her seat to hug Harry.

“We were just about to order a round of drinks while we were waiting. Would either of you like anything?” she asked kindly, giving Draco a wide berth to show she wasn’t going to attempt to hug him as well. Draco was both grateful, and, for an inexplicable reason, annoyed at this. Perhaps it was just because the situation was tense for him. He noticed when he and Harry made to sit down that Ginny’s glare from the previous night was back in full force, and Ron was simply ignoring his existence altogether, refusing to even glance in his direction.

Draco didn’t hear Harry’s answer to Hermione, nor did he pay any attention to the conversation that followed while they waited for their orders to be taken, and then for their food to be delivered to their table. He instead did his best impression of an aloof statue, the only words he spoke throughout the entire lunch were his order of food and a disinterested grunt when Harry asked quietly if he was okay.

Every so often, Draco would tune in to Harry’s excited chatter as he and the other three Gryffindors discussed what they thought Hogwarts would be like during the upcoming year. Ron asked excitedly if Harry thought they could rejoin the Quidditch team, and Harry had to face the fact that he would probably never play his favorite sport again, a realization that seemed to hit him rather hard and had Draco feeling sickeningly guilty as Ron backtracked awkwardly and changed the subject of conversation.

Ginny, like Draco, seemed resigned to silence during lunch, only talking to Hermione in a hushed voice once or twice throughout the ordeal and glaring pointedly at Draco each time. After what felt like forever and a half, their plates were cleared and Hermione was mapping out what stores they should go to. Gringotts was obviously the first stop, and the Golden Trio shared a good laugh at what they thought the goblins would do upon seeing them again.

Peeved goblins were the least of Draco’s worries though. He felt like he was wearing a giant red target walking out of the Leaky Cauldron surrounded by all the Gryffindors, torn between hiding behind Harry and standing aloof as if his presence among them was merely accidental. He must have ended up looking constipated instead, because Harry told the rest of the group to keep going and pulled Draco into the doorway of an abandoned shop.

“Are you alright? You look...pained or something.”

“I’m fine,” Draco bit back sharply, glaring at a nearby group of older witches who were watching them curiously.

“No, Draco. I can tell something is wrong and you need to talk to me or I won’t be able to help you. What can I do to make you feel better?”

Draco looked back at Harry and felt another pang of guilt for how much the boy had already done for him. Not used to expressing any kind of emotions, however, he just shrugged and glanced past Harry, seeing that the rest of the group had stopped a little ways away and that Ginny was staring at him with a glint in her eye.

“Actually, I’m feeling a bit claustrophobic in such a big group of people, especially since it’s already so hard to make sure I don’t accidentally bump into somebody,” Draco snipped, not meeting Harry’s eyes. Harry looked a little bit disappointed, but nodded understandingly.

“Then after Gringotts I’ll tell them that we need to pick up a few things separately before we meet back up later on. You seemed distracted at lunch when Ron asked if we wanted to go to the Burrow tonight once we’re done here. Is that alright?”

Draco almost groaned aloud as Harry led him back to the group, but when he grumbled “if you’re going to kill me today, you may as well do it thoroughly,” Harry beamed and moved so Draco was holding his hand instead of his wrist.

The glare Ginny gave Draco when Harry told them they’d be splitting ways for a while was so toxic Draco almost grinned. He settled for a smirk instead, which obviously ruffled her feathers because she moved instantly to Harry’s other side and held onto his arm firmly, suddenly becoming very chatty as they slowly strode to the bank. Draco didn’t even want to know what they must have looked like, each holding onto Harry as if on an uncomfortable date where they hadn’t expected the other to show up.

However, once they entered the bank, Ginny instantly dropped Harry’s arm and moved so there were several feet between them, and Draco was tempted to do the same. The icy glares of every goblin in the entrance hall that fixed instantly on Harry, Ron, and Hermione were terrifying and if looks could kill, the three of them would have been incinerated the second they set foot in the door. Harry chuckled tensely under the weight of their glares, which only intensified as they slowly made their way to the head goblin, who sneered down on them, but said nothing as he motioned another goblin over to take them all to their various vaults. Draco noticed the entire time they were in the cart, all three guilty-faced Gryffindors had their wands clutched tightly in hand as inconspicuously as possible and that conversation was scarce and tense.

After the most nerve-wracking bank visit of his life, Draco found himself back on the steps of Gringotts as he listened distantly to Harry making plans to meet back up with his friends later that afternoon to go to the Burrow. And then, they were on their own at last. Or so they thought. 

No sooner had they left the imposing shadow of Gringotts--heading in the direction of Madam Malken’s--than Draco heard the annoying and terrifying shout of an excited Hogwarts student he didn’t immediately recognize.

“Harry! Harry I didn’t know you’d be here today! If I’d have known, I would have brought my gran so she could have met you! Oh and…Draco? Errr…” the boy, who Draco realized was a very grown up Neville Longbottom, faltered slightly upon seeing Draco standing stiffly beside Harry, unknowingly clutching his hand in a death grip. Neville glanced down at their joined hands and seemed to come to an abrupt realization.

“Hey Neville how was your summer?” Harry asked, happy to see his friend. But Neville hadn’t appeared to have heard him, turning to Draco instead.

“Draco, it’s great to see you again,” Neville burst out somewhat awkwardly, smiling with a mildly pained expression, but smiling nonetheless. “Are you coming back to Hogwarts for our last year as well? We didn’t learn very much last year, did we? Except for how well the Carrows could hang us by our toes,” Neville laughed nervously, but when Draco didn’t join in, his laughter died into tense silence. Draco simply didn’t know how to react in this situation. Why was Neville acting so friendly towards him when he had been the one to cause so much of his suffering at school? It could only be a trap, right? After a beat or two of silence, Neville coughed and turned back to Harry.

“Right. Harry, I can’t wait to see you at school, but I’ve a few things I have to buy for my gran so I better be going on my way. Bye!” Neville all but fled from under Draco’s gaze, glancing backwards to wave over his shoulder before disappearing into the apothecary.

“What the hell...why was he being so nice to me?” Draco finally turned on Harry so quickly that Harry almost took a step back.

“He must have thought we were together or something,” Harry chuckled, raising their entwined hand.

“Yeah that’s why it doesn’t make any sense. Why didn’t he try to hex me or even look angry? What the fuck is wrong with you bloody Gryffindors?!” Harry only laughed harder, trying to shush Draco as they continued to walk towards their destination.

“He’s my friend, Draco. He’s not going to be mean to anybody I’m with, dating or otherwise. That’s just how friendship works.”

Draco looked torn between being appalled and aghast, making Harry laugh harder as they finally arrived at the robe shop and walked into the cool, familiar surroundings.

“My friends would have killed you on the spot! Gryffindors are the most ridiculous, obtuse…” 

Draco continued ranting as Harry happily greeted Madam Malkin and followed the confused old witch to the back of the shop to be fitted, dragging along Draco, who had finished his tirade and was glowering like an ignored puppy.

The rest of their afternoon was increasingly stressful for Draco as Diagon Alley got more crowded and more people wanted to talk to the savior Harry Potter. Most people simply wanted to thank him or shake his (unoccupied) hand. Some Hogwarts students bounded up to him to proclaim their excitement that he’d be going back to school with them, and one boy in particular burst into tears and had to be comforted by Harry for a full ten minutes before he left them alone, sniffing and smiling wetly (Harry later told Draco that had been a Gryffindor named Dennis Creevy). Regardless of their reason for approaching Harry, they all either ignored Draco or threw him dirty looks when they thought Harry wasn’t watching, but none of them called him out, for which he was grateful. 

In fact, Luna Lovegood, who had been leaving the owlery as they walked past, addressed Draco first, saying how happy she was to see him alive and well in her far-away voice before informing him that his basement had been a lovely place to be held captive and that his cloud of nargals was getting uncharacteristically rowdy. Draco hadn’t known how to respond to either of those statements, but she wasn’t expecting a response, turning to Harry instead and telling him that he and Draco looked adorable together and that she couldn’t wait to see what new ghosts lived at Hogwarts before traipsing off.

“I assume it wouldn’t do any good to tell any of these people we aren’t a couple?” Draco grumbled as he was pulled into the pet store beside the owlery.

“I don’t really see much of a point. It’ll just make it easier when we get to school so we don’t have to explain it to everyone we come across. Now help me pick out an owl, would you?”

Harry ended up buying a beautiful barn owl named Widget after gazing sadly at the snowy owls sleeping in their cages. He stroked her absently through the bars of her cage as he paid for her, and Draco tightened his grip slightly on Harry’s hand, trying to comfort him and not really knowing how.

Finally, all their books, robes, potion ingredients, and pets were purchased and Harry and Draco apparated back to Grimmauld place to drop off all their bulky parcels--and one sleeping owl--and to spruce up a bit before leaving for the burrow. Draco was absolutely exhausted, but Harry looked so excited to see the Weasley family that he just couldn’t bring himself to ask if they could stay home instead. By the time they were standing on Grimmauld place’s porch to disapparate to the Burrow though, be was beginning to get a pounding headache and must have leaned a bit too heavily on Harry when they vanished, because when they appeared with a _pop_ in front of a rickety garden gate Harry looked at him with a rather concerned expression.

“Draco, you look really pale. Are you feeling okay?”

“Actually, my head feels like it’s got a nail being driven through it, but I’m fine,” Draco bit back, rubbing a hand on his temple harshly. 

“You need to tell me these things! We don’t have to stay here, we can go back for the night--”

“No. You want to see your ruddy friends so you will. You can’t just change plans on such short notice; it’s horrible manners. So you’re going to go in there and shoot the shit until my ears start bleeding, then we can go home. Now let’s go.” Draco wasn’t feeling up to arguing with Harry when they were already on the property of the Burrow, its odd shape throwing an even odder shadow on the ground as the sun sunk below the hills. He marched them towards its front door, where they were greeted by a cheery Molly Weasley, who’s smile faltered minutely when she recognized who was holding the hand of the boy she considered her son.

“Harry! How wonderful to see you, dear!” she exclaimed, hugging Harry tightly and kissing him on the cheek in a disgustingly motherly way (in Draco’s opinion at least). “And Draco, what a lovely surprise! Ginny told me Harry’d be bringing a special guest, but she didn’t tell me who it’d be. Nevertheless, we’re delighted to have you!” Molly smiled, going in for a hug before Draco could use Harry as a human shield. He tensed completely as he felt the pudgy woman’s arms come in contact with him, but other than his headache giving an excessively painful throb, there was no ill effect. 

Draco let out a sigh of relief when Molly released him, and she looked confusedly at him. “Thank you for having me, Mrs. Weasley. It’s a...pleasure to be welcomed to your home.” Draco’s smile looked a bit forced, but apparently got the job done because Molly beamed at him and ushered the two boys inside.

“I’ll be putting supper on the table in a few minutes, so go get Ron and Hermione from the sitting room please, dears. Oh, and tell Ron to shout for Ginny on the way over, the pesky girl wouldn’t leave her room since getting back from Diagon Alley for some reason. Oh no, Harry dear, don’t be concerned. She does this from time to time. Now run along while I set the table.” She shooed them from the kitchen with a wave of her hand and turned to the stove where some kind of stew was cooking itself. Draco heard her chastising the pot for adding so much pepper as Harry led him from the room and through a series of doorways before they arrived in a cozy sitting room.

“There you are mate! We were wondering if you’d ever get done shopping! Get anything fun?” Harry pulled Draco down onto a worn love seat next to him, grinning at Ron and Hermione.

“I finally got an owl! She’s a barn owl named Widget.”

“Oh Harry that’s wonderful! Now we can send letters again, not that it’ll be very long before we’re living at Hogwarts, but still!” Hermione clapped excitedly and Draco winced at the loud noise.

“How about you, Draco? Did you get anything new and exciting?” Hermione asked politely. Draco shook his head in response, wondering if the lights in the room had always been so bright. They were hurting his eyes to look at.

There was a bit of awkward silence before Harry passed on Molly’s message, Ron sighing when Ginny was mentioned.

“She’s been like that ever since we got back from Romania,” he said quietly. “We think it’s mostly because Fred’s...gone...and George stayed with Bill and Fleur instead of coming back with us. They’re all really close, you know? I think she’s just lonely...that and I think she thinks she’ll never have a chance with you now that you’re, uh, with Draco constantly.” Ron smiled tensely at Draco, but the blond boy didn’t notice as he had his eyes closed to try to shut out the light that was worsening his headache.

Harry didn’t know how to respond to that, so he just shrugged halfheartedly. “The more I think about it, the weirder it would be, really. I’m sorry Ron,” he finally said.

“Hey mate, don’t apologize to me,” Ron responded, standing up and clapping Harry on the shoulder before heading for the stairs. “Ginny! How long have you been there?!” the group in the sitting room heard him exclaim.

Harry felt sick with guilt for unintentionally hurting Ginny as he had when she was already so distressed over her brothers. Draco on the other hand, felt literally sick and when Harry made to stand up and address Ginny, he lurched forward at the same time, releasing Harry’s hand unthinkingly in order to clamp it over his mouth so he wouldn’t toss his cookies all over Hermione.

Instantly, his spine arched unnaturally and he fell to the ground, spasming as if under the cruciatus curse, his hand still over his mouth the only thing keeping him from screaming. Hermione did scream though, and Harry dropped instantly to Draco’s side, wrapping his arms tightly around the blond and pulling him on his lap to try to calm him down as the rest of the household came tearing into the room.

“What’s going on--oh my god! Harry, what’s wrong with him?!” Ron ran around the couch to help, but Harry shook his head desperately to keep him away. Draco had stilled a bit now that he was being hugged tightly by Harry, but his body was still trembling and tears were streaming down his face from his closed eyes. If his head wasn’t still in so much pain, he would have died of embarrassment for being so weak in front of so many people. But as it was, he couldn’t even look at them in the too-bright light.

“We have to go. Sorry.” Harry said shortly, disapparating instantly as Draco heaved, dangerously on the verge of puking. The rest of the Weasleys, plus Hermione, all stared silently at the spot where they had been, Molly with a hand to her heart and tears in her eyes. Finally, Ron broke the silence.

“I reckon he’s not kidding like we thought,” he muttered, still a bit shocked at the sudden change in events. Ginny nodded silently, sinking down on the couch. After a few more seconds of silence, Ron seemed to come to a realization.

“Aren’t the wards still up, Mum? How the bloody hell did Harry get through them?!”


	8. Chapter 8

Harry’s knees hit the porch of Grimmauld Place hard, but he hardly paid that any mind, immediately turning Draco on his side so the poor boy could throw up from the mixture of migraine and apparation. Once his stomach was empty and clenching uncomfortably, Harry gently lifted Draco like a child, his skinny frame hardly weighing anything, and tried to carry him as smoothly into the house and up the stairs as possible. Draco, eyes clenched tightly, clung to Harry’s cotton shirt, groaning when he was lowered onto the bed and some of their contact was lost.

Harry kicked off his shoes, moving to the foot of the bed--running a hand down Draco’s leg to keep contact--to remove Draco’s shoes as well before snapping to summon Kretcher and quietly telling the house elf to go clean up the porch. He then stretched out next to the blond, who instantly grabbed onto him like a large, demanding koala, tucking his face in the juncture of Harry’s neck and shoulder to get as much darkness and skin contact as possible. 

Already, Draco’s headache was beginning to alleviate, becoming less of a pounding and more of a dull throbbing behind his eyes. At least the excruciating pain of being separated from Harry hadn’t lingered, though his muscles felt strained and exhausted from being clenched so tightly for the few seconds he had lost contact. Draco whimpered quietly, feeling so disgustingly weak. Today had just been too much for him, and the prospect of going to school when he couldn’t even handle one day of socialization was so daunting it made him feel nauseous all over again.

Harry must have picked up on Draco’s thoughts, or at least heard his whimper, because he tightened his hold around Draco’s back and moved so their legs were tangled together.

“I’m sorry, Draco. I shouldn’t have pushed you so hard today…” Harry whispered, trying not to overstimulate Draco’s hearing and cause his headache to worsen. Draco, ever the drama queen, moaned loudly and pathetically, but cracked his eyes open to smirk tiredly up at Harry in the dim light.

“I did it to myself, Potter. Besides, my head doesn’t feel like it’s going to explode anymore. Though, I do feel like I was just hit by a train. Fucking curse,” Draco sighed, moving slightly away from Harry so he could unbutton his jeans and kick them off the end of the bed, his shirt then following suit. After a second, Harry did the same, along with removing his glasses, figuring they weren’t going to be getting out of bed for the rest of the night. Clad in boxers, Draco nuzzled his face back against Harry’s neck, his sore muscles reveling in the contact of Harry holding onto him, and was unconscious in seconds.

Harry stayed awake, listening to Draco’s even breathing against his collarbone. He wasn’t sure what was going on in his head, but his thoughts were running rampant. In only a few weeks, he and Draco had gone from hardly tolerant of one another--only exercising as much contact as strictly necessary to keep Draco from writhing in agony--to cuddling half naked as if it was the most natural thing in the world. Not only that, but it _felt_ natural at this point, and the depth of Draco’s trust in him was staggering. How had they gone from enemies to...this? And what was this anyway? 

Harry pulled back slightly so he could see Draco’s sleeping face a few inches away. He remembered doing this their first night in the Manor, and being surprised at Draco’s peaceful expression. Now, it wasn’t as much of a surprise, as Draco’s trademark Malfoy smirk was only ever present when he was messing with Harry or when they were with other people. He did look incredibly relaxed though, his eyebrows weren’t knitted together in worry or fear--as they had been for the majority of the day, Harry realized. He ghosted a finger over one of Draco’s eyebrows, tracing the ridge of bone over the gaunt skin. He was so frail looking, so helpless. Harry felt a pang of possessiveness--which he chose to ignore--when he realized he must be one of the only people to ever see Draco so vulnerable and calm.

Holding his breath, he moved his finger to skim over Draco’s sharp nose, remembering with a slight smile how impostor-Mooney had turned him into a weasel, and across his cheekbones just under his closed eyes, noticing the slightly darkened circles there. Draco sighed in his sleep, shifting so his face was less turned into the pillow as Harry mindlessly ran his fingers over his skin in random patterns. Really, the longer he looked at Draco, the more he realized how cute the boy was in his innocent sleep. But he didn’t linger over these thoughts, not wanting to overcomplicate things in his head. He did, however, linger his fingers over Draco’s lips, not quite touching them, but rather hovering a few millimeters above the skin before pulling his hand away and wrapping it back around Draco, who let out a little grunt before shifting impossibly closer and leaning his forehead against Harry’s chest.

Harry finally shut his eyes, resting his cheek on the top of Draco’s head. He fell asleep swiftly, not hearing Draco breathe a quiet “thank you” into the skin of his chest.

 

Harry awoke to the sensation of something touching his back. He cracked his eyes open, the morning light prying its way through the curtains giving the room a soft glow, and realized he had turned over in his sleep and was being spooned by Draco. With a yawn, he stretched and rolled over to face the boy, but was stopped before he got too far by a hand on his shoulder.

“Mmph. Draco?” Harry asked sleepily, not fully awake yet. Draco didn’t respond, and Harry felt the hand on his shoulder smoothing over his bare back, tracing something...Harry froze under the warm touch, flipping over instantly and trapping Draco’s arm underneath him in the process.

“Good morning, sunshine,” Draco said with a sarcastic pleasantness, having obviously been awake for a while. Harry just stared at him, not quite sure what to say in response and wondering if Draco was going to ask the question he really didn’t want to answer.

“Calm down, you look like you’re about to shit yourself,” Draco snickered at Harry’s expression, but his eyes were soft. “You don’t have to tell me if you don’t want to, I was just curious where you got those scars. They don’t look like any kind of curse or hex mark I’ve ever seen.” Harry’s eyes moved against his will to the light, barely distinguishable scars criss-crossing over Draco’s chest and he swallowed heavily, convincing himself he owed Draco an explanation of some kind.

“I just had a really shitty childhood,” was all he managed to choke out. Draco looked puzzled at this.

“Well yeah, so did I, but that doesn’t explain…wait. You mean, those are like, cuts? What fuckers raised you?!” Draco sat up quickly, extracting his arm from under Harry with a slight struggle before focusing all his attention on the other wizard’s stony expression.

“Not cuts exactly, but pretty close. My aunt and uncle raised me, along with my cousin Dudley.”

“Your _family_ did this to you? What the fu--”

“You don’t understand. They’re muggles and completely against any kind of magic or anything out of the ordinary. When I was a kid, I would accidentally make things happen, you know? And I didn’t know how I did it, but they knew what it was and decided they were going to try to beat the magic out of me I guess.”

“You’re shitting me. You weren’t in control of it; you couldn’t help it!”

“Try telling them that. They hated everything about me. I could do nothing wrong and still get punished for the most random thing they could come up with. That’s just how it was. Especially after I set a python on Dudley at the zoo. Oh man, you should have seen Uncle Vernon after that one.” Harry tried to laugh away the tense atmosphere, but Draco didn’t join in, leaving Harry to trail off awkwardly into silence.

“You’re just…” Draco seemed to be struggling for words, which was way out of character for him. “I can’t believe the shit they fed us about you. You were this pampered, spoiled golden child hand raised by Dumbledore in a hidden mansion somewhere or...I don’t know, the Dark Lord never went into details. But really, you were being tortured by your own family without a clue of your power. It’s just...I don’t…argh what the fuck?! Turn around!” Draco exclaimed, running a hand through his hair in exasperation while he waited for Harry to hesitantly roll onto his stomach, gazing up at Draco nervously once he was there.

“What’s this one from?” Draco demanded, running a finger over a thin scar across both his shoulders.

“Dudley’s toy motorbike. He thought it’d be fun to try to jump it over me, but the foot rest didn’t make it over.

“Why the fuck did you let him do that?”

“He beat me up first, I couldn’t get away.”

Draco pursed his lips, sliding his hand over another scar on the side of his ribs.

“And this one?”

“Aunt Marge, my uncle’s sister, had this god awful dog named Ripper and she set him on me when I was little. He only got a few scratches and didn’t manage to bite me before I got up a tree, but I was up there for hours before she called him off.”

Draco didn’t pause, his hand lingering over the thicker scar running in a straight line beside Harry’s spine.

“That was after the zoo. I also got locked in my cupboard for a few days.”

“I’m sorry, I must have misheard. You got locked where now?”

“My room was the broom cupboard under the stairs since Dudley needed two rooms apparently.”

Draco didn’t comment, but Harry could feel his hand trembling slightly against his skin as it moved lower to a scar peeking out from under his boxers. Draco pulled them down to Harry’s thighs without even a pause, and Harry flushed and tucked his head in his arms to hide his face.

“Most of those are from after Dobby showed up in my bedroom. He destroyed Aunt Petunia’s cake in the kitchen during Uncle Vernon’s business deal and they thought it was my fault. Ron saved me from that one though, they were trying to starve me in my room before he showed up to kidnap me.

“I always wondered how that elf knew you,” Draco said distractedly, smoothing a hand over the slightly raised lines littering Harry’s backside. They stayed like that in silence for several minutes, Draco tracing with warm fingers and Harry slowly relaxing into the sensation. He turned his head to look away from where Draco was kneeling, his eyes staring at his and Draco’s trunks that laid open on the other side of the room. For once in his life, he wasn’t filled with the same ecstatic feeling at the prospect of going back to school.

“It’s just so fucked up. Everything was a lie and I just…your life sucks, Harry.”

“Wow, thank you for that heartfelt analysis, Malfoy.” Harry smiled slightly over his shoulder at Draco to let him know he was kidding and Draco lightly flicked his backside, wearing a sour expression.

“I’m serious! I mean, yeah I was ignored most of my childhood by my father and smothered by my mum and I was tortured a few times by the Dark Lord, but that was all kind of expected. And my mum loved me. I miss her a lot; she did too much for me.”

Harry looked back at the trunks, not sure exactly how to respond to that admission. After a second of thought, he turned to meet Draco’s pensive eyes again.

“Your father obviously loved you too if he was able to ask _me_ of all people for help saving you.”

“He did it to save his blood line. That was the most important thing in the world to him: keeping the blood pure and continuing the Malfoy name. He would have done anything for that. Trust me, father had no great love for me.”

Harry wanted to disagree, but let the topic drop as he didn’t want to upset Malfoy, who was still basically feeling up his ass. After a few more moments of silent thought, Harry shuffled his boxers back up and rolled over onto his back, gazing up at Draco who had his mouth slightly open as if about to say something and one hand sitting warmly above Harry’s hip. His jaw snapped shut when he noticed Harry’s expectant expression and he turned a very light pink, clearing his throat awkwardly to interrupt the silence that had settled over the room.

“S-so how are you feeling today? I take it your head doesn’t hurt anymore…” Harry prompted, trying to come up with conversation to evaporate whatever strange tension that had developed in the past few minutes.

“I feel like I could shoot sunshine and rainbows out my ass,” Draco deadpanned, smirking when Harry rolled his eyes. “But really, I do feel better. Yesterday was just...a lot to handle at once.”

“So is it still okay to go back to Hogwarts?” Harry sat up, eyebrows furrowed as if expecting to be disappointed. Draco sighed in defeat at the puppy dog expression and nodded, pinching the bridge of his nose in exasperation when Harry practically squealed like an excited toddler.

“Then I will write McGonagall today and have everything arranged for us! I’m sure she’ll be able to find us a spare room or something so we can be by ourselves and not in the chaos of the dorms. And Widget would like to stretch out her wings anyways!” A few minutes later, Draco was being dragged around by Harry as the boy excitedly completed the preparations necessary to return to the school where everything--good and bad--had begun. 


	9. Chapter 9

Seeing as taking the train would spell disaster for Draco and his fear of being in crowds, McGonagall had instead arranged for the boys to floo from Grimmauld place directly into the Headmistress’s office. So after spending their last few days at home packing and preparing both physically and mentally for the chaos ahead, Harry and Draco found themselves standing in front of Harry’s fireplace. 

All of their luggage had been shrunk down so it would fit comfortably in Harry’s robe pocket and Widget had been sent out earlier that morning to fly herself to the school’s owlery. The only thing left was to say goodbye to the house and the peace that had come with being by themselves.

Draco looked like he was either about to run for the hills or toss his cookies, jittering nervously and holding Harry’s hand in a painfully tight grip. Harry waited patiently for him to get a hold of himself so they could floo without fear of accidentally winding up somewhere they didn’t want to be.

“Are you sure we’ve packed everything? Maybe we should walk through the house again or swing by the manor to be sure…”

“Draco we’ve already done both those things multiple times today. If we’ve forgotten anything, one of your house elves or Kreacher will bring it for us. There’s no reason to be afraid, we’re just going to McGonagall’s office for right now and seeing our new room. Nobody will be there yet; the train only left from Kings Crossing an hour or so ago so we have several hours of having the entire castle to ourselves, besides the professors. There’s nothing to worry about, I promise.”

“I’m not scared!” Draco insisted, glowering when Harry gave him a _sure you aren’t_ kind of look. “I’m just nervous. You may have loved Hogwarts, but it wasn’t all cheery times for me you know.” 

“I know that, and it wasn’t brilliant for me all the time either, but this year will be so much different than all the others. There’s no more fear of Voldemort showing up to kill us all at least. And no way this year anyone’s gonna die, so it’s going to be totally awesome!” Harry grinned, digging an elbow into Draco’s side as the boy huffed at his bad humor and annoying optimism. 

“How about we focus on just getting to the school first, alright? Baby steps, Draco.”

“Yeah yeah fine let’s go,” Draco replied in annoyance, pulling Harry into the fireplace and watching with mixed feelings of anticipation and dread as the wizard threw a handful of floo powder around their feet.

“Hogwarts!” Harry exclaimed and Draco closed his eyes so he wouldn’t have to watch his safe haven be ripped away as they shot through the floo network. He forgot to bend his knees as they landed with a thud in McGonagall’s office, and consequently lost his balance and had to cling to the front of Harry’s robe for support.

“Well, Potter, looks like you’ve finally made it. Hello Malfoy, welcome back.” Draco quickly straightened and smoothed his robes and hair with his free hand when he heard McGonagall’s familiar voice. “I’ve been made aware of you and Potter’s situation and believe me the entire staff is ready to do whatever we must to make you boys comfortable.” Headmistress McGonagall looked very much the same as Draco had always known her, her lips pressed into a tight smile as she stood behind the desk where she had been seated as she awaited their arrival. The office was very different than it had been in the previous year when Snape had occupied it. It was much brighter and many of Dumbledore’s old baubles had been restored to their original locations, probably out of respect for the old headmaster.

Harry mainly noticed the absence of Fawks from his old perch, his stomach twisting with the memory of last seeing the bird at Dumbledore’s funeral. The only thing comforting about the room was Dumbledore’s portrait watching with a smile and twinkling eyes from it’s position on the wall.

“Thank you, professor. We’d like to keep our situation on as much a need-to-know basis as possible, mostly to keep anybody from trying to separate us to hurt Draco.”

“Understood, Potter. The professors all know and express their sincerest condolences toward Draco, as well as swearing under oath not to breathe a word, so you’re safe on that front. I will ask if it’s acceptable to address the crucial detail of how you two are not to be separated at th feast tonight so the students are aware of the consequences should they intentionally try to cause you harm.”

Harry looked at Draco, who wasn’t paying attention as per usual. That will be fine. I’d rather not have to go through them working it out on their own. No details, thought. The last thing we need is people hanging on us all the time begging for information they don’t neeed to know.”

“That is completely understandable. Don’t worry, Potter, nobody will mess with either of you under my watch. How are you feeling, Draco?” 

Draco, who had been gazing around the office in faux disinterest, swept his eyes to McGonagall’s face, taking in her sincerely concerned expression. It made him feel kind of sick, but he couldn’t help but also feel a twang of comfort from the normally cold woman despite his old feelings towards the Gryffindor head of house.

“I’m fine. Thank you, professor,” he said after Harry tightened his grip on his hand to prompt him to speak.

“Well that’s good to hear. Why don’t we get you to your room so you can get settled in before the rest of the students arrive?” She led the boys from her office and down the stairs, chatting the whole time.

“Professor Flitwick and I have chosen a wonderful location for you near the Ravenclaw common room in an old classroom. Obviously we’ve spruced it up a bit, and I figured you’d encounter the least trouble being near Ravenclaw, not to mention they’re more quiet than any other house so that won’t be a concern. Horace has also done a wonderful job of making much of the room look like a Slytherin dorm to counter my Gryffindor decor.” McGonagall chuckled as they passed the Great Hall. Harry noticed with a spark of happiness that the old house point system was back up after having been destroyed during the battle. In fact, the castle was spotless and without indication that a war had raged though the halls only months ago. He did notice on the wall beside the giant double doors that there was a plaque, engraved with the names of those lost in the battle. Harry swallowed thickly, forcing himself to look away.

“We are very thankful, professor,” Harry said sincerely, his voice a bit choked from the emotion that always accompanied any reminder of his friends and family that were no longer able to walk these halls. Draco glanced at him with eyebrows raised in question, but Harry shook his head to keep him from asking questions. They finally rounded the corner that put them beside the staircase that led up to Ravenclaw tower.

“Don’t mention it, Potter. It’s the least we could do to ensure your and Mr. Malfoy’s safety. Right this way, your room is at the other end of the hall.” They approached a wooden door with no handle, in front of which McGonagall came to a halt and instructed the boys to take out their wands.

“Flitwick and I thought it’d be best if only you two could even attempt to enter, so the door has been enchanted to open based on your magical signatures. If you would, simply place your wand tips against the wood...yes very good, very good. Now say the first spell that comes to mind.”

Harry felt a strange sensation come over his body the second his wand made contact with the door, as if he was frozen in place. _Say the first thing that comes to mind? How will that ever work?_ he thought. Even so, as he stood there, he felt a spell begin to leave his mouth without him even thinking about saying it.

“Expelliarmus!” he said, sighing with relief as the feeling of being frozen left. Beside him, Draco gripped his hand tightly, having already said his spell. The door was flung open and McGonagall ushered them in.

“Very good, boys. You can open the door together or separately, but only your magic will work. Anybody else will be stuck to the door until someone finds them, which would be most unfortunate for them, wouldn’t you agree? I hope you enjoy your room. Let me know if I can get you anything, but for now I will leave you two to unpack and get settled in.” With that, McGonagall turned on her heel and swept the door shut behind her with a thud, leaving the boys alone.

Draco let out a tense breath, glancing at Harry, who was surveying the large room with a grin. It was a very strange mix of Gryffindor and Slytherin; the queen-sized four poster bed was split down the middle with half decked out in red and gold and the other silky green and silver. In fact, everything was split, from the paint on the walls to the carpet on the floor. The window overlooking the lake on the Gryffindor side was decorated with one red curtain and one green and there were even two contrasting couches in small sitting area around a fireplace to the right of the door. Slughorn had obviously taken it upon himself to make sure the room was equal parts Slytherin and Gryffindor, a fact that Harry found to be very amusing.

“They could have just gone for neutral colors instead of making the place look like the result of a bad breakup. Wanna put a line on the floor so we don’t accidentally get on the wrong side of the room?” Harry joked. Draco snorted in agreement before reaching in Harry’s pocket with his free hand and feeling around for his trunk.

“It is utterly ghastly. Luckily I brought some things from home to make it less of a stark contrast. Would you be severely opposed to me putting some Slytherin posters on _your_ side of the room, since that is the side of the bed I usually sleep on after all?”

“And disrupt the feng shui? How dare you even suggest it,” Harry said with mock offense, breaking into a laugh when Draco rolled his eyes dramatically at him.

“Whichever professor gave this room the OK wouldn’t know feng shui if it smacked them in the face. Here, help me enlarge our stuff so we can unpack.”

The boys quickly set to work attempting to un-segregate the room, Harry putting all his things on the Slytherin side and Draco on the Gryffindor. Draco even summoned one of his elves to bring a rug from his house to try to cover the line on the floor where red and green split. In the end, it looked even more of a mess, but both boys kind of liked it that way. 

On either side of the bed, doors led to the same, unnecessarily large bathroom. 

“Why the hell are there two doors if we can’t let go of each other?” Draco grumbled as they surveyed the room, tiled in silver and gold squares with dark grey walls.

“Why is there two of everything in here? We can’t use two bathtubs at the same time. And where the fuck are the showers? I’m sorry, Potter, but I’m not about to take a soothing romantic bath with you every day.” Draco was obviously being sarcastic, but Harry had to breathe slowly to try to make his blush go away at the implication of a romantic bubble bath. Luckily for him, Draco was too occupied with critiquing the room to pay him any attention.

“Relax, Draco. We can just transfigure one into a shower so we have both just in case. It is nice to have two sinks though, I’m getting tired of your beauty products cluttering up my half of our old sink.”

“There’s nothing wrong with looking beautiful. You could use a little bit of a spruce up every once in a while if you want one,” Draco said with a snicker, to which Harry punched him lightly in the arm.

“Shut it and let me transfigure this. Then we should figure out how we’re going to get some dinner since I figure you want to skip the feast.” Harry pulled out his wand taking a deep breath to steady himself before wordlessly changing one of the bathtubs into a shower resembling the one in the Manor. Draco hmm-ed his approval, pulling Harry over to it so he could charm the water to come from both ends.

“I feel like it would be wise to not go, mostly because I don’t want to see any Slytherins yet, if there even are any.”

“Well then it’s good that I know how to get into the kitchens, isn’t it? We can get them to make us up plates and just bring them back here. Sound like a plan?”

Draco nodded, allowing Harry to lead him by the hand back into the bedroom and out through the door, which slammed shut the second they were out, nearly taking off Harry’s foot.

“At least we never have to worry about anybody following us in, right?” he laughed it off, glancing nervously at the door before leading Draco back past the Great Hall. They could hear the excited chatter of students through the closed doors as they enjoyed the feast. Draco unconsciously tightened his grip on Harry’s hand and moved so close to his side he was almost tripping Harry with every step. Harry smoothed his thumb over the back of Draco’s hand comfortingly, turning them to descend the stairs that led to the Hufflepuff basement.

“Where the hell are we going?” Draco slowed his steps as Harry marched down the hall toward the painting of the bowl of fruit, dragging Draco behind him.

“This is the entrance to the kitchen!”

“You’re barking. Its a bloody painting.”

Harry grinned, reaching up with his free hand to tickle the pear. It squirmed and giggled before transforming into a doorknob, which Harry grasped and turned. The kitchen was exactly how he remembered it, absolutely gigantic and bustling with hundreds of house elves as they hurried to send more food up as it was consumed by the students above. Draco seemed at a loss for words as Harry dragged him through the elves, who all bowed lowly as he approached.

“I know you’re all very busy, but could we possibly have some food to take back with us to our room? We’re not feeling up to the feast tonight,” Harry asked the collection of elves that had stopped before he and Draco.

A chorus of,“of course Harry Potter and friend!” rang out and not seconds later they were surrounded by platters upon platters of food.

“Woah, woah that’s more than enough! How about we just make ourselves plates and get out of your way quickly?”

Any notion of being fast was tossed aside as Harry and Draco tried to make their plates with elves tripping over each other in their attempt to force food into the wizard’s hands. Harry was laughing the entire time, having forgotten how much he enjoyed the presence of house elves that were actually nice to him. Draco, on the other hand, was about ready to drag Harry out of there. He was pressed to Harry’s back with his arms around his waist, trying to avoid touching any of the elves as Harry made both their plates with as much food as he could carry on them.

“Can we please go now?” Draco asked in a near whisper, his face being right beside Harry’s ear.

“Oh, right, of course. Thank you very much, we’ll be back to see you all!” Harry smiled at all the elves, which caused another round of bowing as he passed Draco his plate so they could hold hands and back out of the kitchen quickly.

“Well that was an adventure,” Draco said dryly as they made their way back up the staircase.

“Oh shit, hurry Draco they’re probably going to be getting out of the feast soon,” Harry exclaimed as they passed the Great Hall, the level of noise indicating that the time for face-stuffing was drawing to a close. No sooner had Harry spoke than the double doors slammed open and students poured into the hall. The shouts of prefects ringing out over the chatter as they tried to control their houses and lead them to the dormitories.

The corner that would take them out of sight of the oncoming flood of students was just ahead, and Harry and Draco all but ran to make the turn. They weren’t fast enough though.

“That was Harry, wasn’t it?!”

“Harry Potter? Why wasn’t he at the feast?”

“Hey Harry, come back!”

Harry recognized some of the voices as belonging to his friends, but the panicked expression on Draco’s face demolished any question of stopping to say hi. They hurried on, trying to ignore the sound of approaching feet behind them until they were finally outside the door to their room, out of breath from trying to awkwardly jog while holding hands and balancing food.

“Shit we don’t have enough hands for this!” Draco growled in frustration. They could see the first of the Ravenclaws making their way down the hall, headed off by a few Gryffindors that had apparently decided to hunt Harry down. He could see Seamus and Dean leading them and in a panic, Harry stepped on Draco’s foot, wrenched his hand free. He grabbed his wand from his pocket and pressed it forcefully against the door, not allowing it the time to even fully freeze him before he shouted _reducto_ and, putting his wand between his teeth, grabbed Draco’s hand and pushed into the room. The slam of the door closing behind them brought instant relief and Draco felt like melting to the floor. The contact between their shoes that he had had with Harry for the brief moment when he had stepped on his foot had barely been enough to keep the pain away, and now he could feel a slight ache in his muscles, as if he had done an extremely hard workout the day before.

“I was definitely _not_ ready for that,” Draco panted, the hand balancing his plate trembling. 

“Sorry, Draco. It was my fault, I should have timed that better so we wouldn’t run into them. The elves took longer than I remember, probably since they were all fighting to feed us.” 

Harry led Draco over to the bed, where they deposited the plates before climbing onto the covers with their legs touching. They ignored the banging on the door, Harry hoping his friends wouldn’t be dumb enough to get frozen on their doorstep. After several tense minutes the knocking stopped and Harry picked up his plate to finally eat his dinner.

Draco and Harry ate in silence, leaving their empty plates on one of the dressers for the house elves to collect when they had finished. They then stripped down to their boxers and crawled under the blankets aside one another, only touching from the knees down. Draco looked severely shaken and Harry didn’t want to do anything to make him worse, so he remained silent, watching out of the corner of his eye as Draco stared blankly at his hands resting on his lap. After several silent minutes, the blond boy spoke.

“I hate this feeling. More than anything else. It’s like I’m trapped in a cage that I can’t get out of no matter how hard I try. It feels like I’m so useless and pathetic and cowardly.” Draco said in a low voice, almost whispering. “I was just chased down the hall and had to hide in our room like a fucking weakling. What am I going to do when we start classes tomorrow? I can’t face anybody; they all hate me. They all want me dead, and they’re probably right.”

“You’re wrong. Draco,” Harry wrapped an arm around Draco’s bare torso, dragging the boy so he rested against his chest. Draco didn’t resist, and Harry could feel him trembling. “Don’t you ever say that. You are not useless or pathetic or weak and you definitely don’t deserve to be dead. This is going to be difficult, but don’t think for one second you’re going to ever be alone. I’ll be right there with you through it all, as will Hermione and maybe even Ron will come around eventually. As will the rest of Hogwarts when they see how much you’ve changed. It’s okay to be scared, hell I’m scared too. I don’t want anything to happen to you, so I won’t let anything happen. It’ll all get better once we take the first step, which is getting out into the world again and trying to live our lives. We can do it, I promise you. Draco? Please don’t cry, I’ve got you.”

Harry put both arms around Draco, holding him tightly and resting his head on Draco’s hair.

“Wh-who’s crying. Malfoys don’t cry.” Draco was betrayed by the tremor in his voice and a startlingly loud hiccup following his words. Harry pulled the covers up to their shoulders before shimmying down to be at eye-level with the Slytherin.

“Sure they don’t. Just like how Potters don’t do reckless, stupid things?” Harry nudged Draco’s forehead with his own, trying to make the boy smile at least. It didn’t work as planned.

“I’m taking you away from all your friends, your favorite sport, any chance of living a normal life and getting married and having a family and a job and a future. Why the fuck are you still here?” Draco sounded exhausted, closing his eyes so he wouldn’t have to meet Harry’s annoyingly concerned green ones.

“No you’re not. My friends will be around, don’t you worry about that. They know my life is insane. And I’m sure we can eventually figure out a way to get our hands on a two-person broom so that isn’t even out of the question in the long run. As far as everything else goes, you’re not taking away anything, Draco. _This_ is my future, and while in the beginning I was horrified at the thought of us spending our lives together, once we got to know each other, it’s not so scary anymore. Besides, we’re rich so we really don’t need jobs anytime soon if we don’t want them you’ve already come up with the ingenious fall back plan of being crazy cat ladies should all else fail. So stop worrying; I’m not upset with anything going on here. Actually, I’m glad in a way. Who would have thought we’d become such good friends, right?”

Draco sniffled, but nodded. How the hell had he ended up stuck with such a stupidly optimistic, yet wonderful person? With a sigh, Draco snaked his arms around Harry, pulling himself as close as he could get and nuzzling his face into the crook of Harry’s neck. He smelled like home and Draco was curious when that had happened, when they two of them had become so close. He’d never had anybody ever listen to him and comfort him and stay with him like Harry did, the closest comparison he could make was when he and Moaning Myrtle became friends, but that was minuscule compared to this.

Harry felt Draco’s breathing begin to even out, so he slowly reached for his wand to extinguish the lights before snuggling as close as he could to the boy, intertwining their legs and running his hands softly over Draco’s back to try to lull him into sleep. He really was glad this whole curse situation had happened. In the beginning, he was ready to leave Draco for any and every little thing, especially the ones Draco had just listed. But he had stuck with him for some reason even he didn’t know. Draco had really grown on him, the biting sarcasm no longer stung, nor did the scowls and glares since they were always replaced with soft smiles and playful teasing later on. He couldn’t even begin to think about what he would do if anything were to happen to Draco; the boy had suffered so greatly for such an unfair reason. It might be Harry’s hero complex shining through, but he had become incredibly attached to the former Death Eater.

Draco sighed shakily against Harry’s neck and the wizarding hero tightened his embrace, taking a second to chalk up his courage before placing a comforting kiss on the top of Draco’s head.

“It’ll be okay, Draco. Everything will be okay in the end,” he whispered into the boy’s hair. Draco must have fallen asleep, because he relaxed into Harry’s embrace and his breathing became deeper and more even. There was something itching in Harry’s mind, or rather in his chest. It had been building for a long time it seemed, but the more Harry thought about it, the less he could picture he life without Draco in it. He wanted to do everything with the boy; to graduate, settle down in one house together, grow old and die together after living long lives. Harry’s breathing stopped. Could it...he couldn’t actually _feel_ for Draco, could he? Sure he liked him, but the more he thought about it, the more it dawned on him that his feelings were much stronger than he first realized.

“Hey, Draco?” Harry whispered. Draco didn’t stir and his eyes remained shut. Harry sighed, not about to wake the exhausted wizard for something as stupid as his uncertain feelings.

Draco was on the brink of unconsciousness, feeling like his body was floating was he flickered between reality and dreaming. He heard Harry say his name, but there was no way in hell he was pulling himself away from sleep. His muscles all still ached dully, even with Harry’s arms wrapped tightly around him and full skin contact. He chalked it up to the stress of the day and his exhaustion. Besides, it was slowly beginning to fade as he relaxed further into unconsciousness. 

“Draco I think I love you.” Draco heard Harry whisper. And then he was gone, off to dream land where nothing mattered.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Merry Christmas/whatever holiday you celebrate! Here's your present! :D Steamy times are approaching us, my dear readers. As always, comments really make my day better (I usually read them to my roommate as she ignores me) and I sincerely hope you all are enjoying this story! Thanks for reading! (also, bonus points to whoever gets the AVPM reference)


	10. Chapter 10

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Whoop next chapter is up!! I've actually been sitting on this thing for almost a week now because I'm a mess and had to read it 900000 times before I could grow the balls to throw it onto the internet. Be strong, my dear readers, this is it; this is the chapter that earns this fic it's M rating. Proceed with caution. If you aren't here for the frickle frackle, I suggest you turn back now. Please be kind to me, this is my first attempt at writing anything like this and I'm quite nervous about posting it. Lemme know what you think! I'm sorry in advance lol

“Do ya think they’ll come to breakfast with us this morning? I mean, I kinda assumed they wouldn’t come to the feast last night, but they can’t skip every meal,” Ron asked Hermione as he crammed toast in his mouth. They were sitting at the very end of the Gryffindor table in the Great Hall, both anxiously watching the door every time a student entered in hopes that it would be Harry and Draco.

“I’m sure they will be here as soon as they are ready to be. You saw Draco that night at the burrow, it must be terrifying for him to be back here, and around so many people,” Hermione said thoughtfully. Then, she sharply turned to Ron, who knew what was coming and groaned. “Don’t you dare give that boy any trouble when they do show up, Ronald. I know you controlled the urge to aggravate him earlier, but just barely. Draco’s obviously cha--”

“Harry, mate! You made it!” Ron jumped up from his seat in relief at escaping another of Hermione’s lectures on being civil.

“And Malfoy, you look just as pratty as always. How ever do you manage to pull it off?”

Hermione groaned, glancing up at Harry and Draco, who were just about to sit beside her.

“I know you have no way of knowing this, Weasley, but if you have enough money you can look however you like. Upkeep is all in the products you use, after all.” Draco said in his old bored drawl as he pulled Harry into his seat by the grip he had on his wrist. He couldn’t help but smirk a little as Ron stood across the table in silence for a second before laughing so loudly all of Gryffindor table turned to look at what was so funny.

Hermione looked shocked, staring at Draco as if worried he might burst into tears. Harry was chuckling too, though and entwined their hands under the table so he could rub the back of Draco’s hand with his thumb. Ron collapsed back into his seat, still smiling and reached for more food. 

“You know, as much as a headache as you were, Malfoy, I am a bit glad to have someone to insult again. No hard feelings, right?”

“Sure Weasley, no hard feelings,” Draco responded nonchalantly as he began to survey the spread and pick out his breakfast.

Hermione and Harry watched in almost awe as the two former enemies ate peacefully across from one another at the Gryffindor table until Harry felt his stomach grumble and slid his leg under Draco’s so he could use both his hands to pile his plate high.

“So what classes do you two have today?” Hermione asked, her nose crinkling as Harry shoveled food into his mouth with all the table manners of a wild bear. Harry looked at Draco with his cheeks puffed out jerking his head towards Hermione to tell him to respond. Draco snorted and lightly smacked Harry on the back of the head with a mutter of “pig” before leaning around the boy to address Hermione.

“We have charms, arithmacy, and potions today. So it should be a rather easy first day.”

“Speak fo’ yourspelf,” Harry managed to say around his food before swallowing loudly. “If you can’t remember, I’m absolutely miserable at potions. Good thing I’ll be able to cheat off you,” he snickered, elbowing Draco in the side.

“Get back to stuffing your face, you’re much more manageable when you can’t talk,” Draco snipped, earning an eye roll and a grin from Harry. He still wasn’t sure if he had imagined Harry confessing his love to him last night, but figured it wasn’t a good idea to bring it up with such a stressful day ahead of them. Sure, they were putting on a good show now, bickering as if nothing was wrong in the world, but Draco knew Harry could see the tension in his shoulders and how he kept glancing at the nearly vacant Slytherin table as if a dragon was lurking there. He had to keep stopping himself from grabbing Harry’s hand every time the boy shifted to make sure he wasn’t going anywhere and could already tell today was going to be exhausting for the both of them.

“Harry you were most certainly not _miserable_ at potions! You got Exceeds Expectations on your OWLS for Merlin’s sake!” Hermione exclaimed. Draco raised his eyebrows at Harry, surprised despite himself. Harry quickly choked down some pumpkin juice, ignoring Draco’s stare.

“Harry! There you are! Damn your door is a tricky thing to figure out!” the group heard Seamus all but shouting as he walked swiftly towards where they were sitting and plopped himself down next to Ron.

“I mean, I know McGonagall told us not to try it because we’d regret it, but Dean and I just couldn’t help ourselves! You should’ve seen old McGonagall’s face when she unstuck us later, thank Merlin filthy Filch came around and found us. I’ve never actually been happy to see him until last night.” Seamus laughed, paying no attention to the uncomfortable expressions on Harry and Draco’s faces.

Harry decided not to respond to Seamus, turning to Hermione instead.

“McGonagall talked about us last night? What did she say?” Harry could feel Draco’s hand come to rest on his thigh, so he dropped a hand under the table to hold Draco’s in response to the silent request.

“She basically told us to leave you two alone and to not harass Draco or ‘dire consequences would result.’ We were also warned against trying to enter your room for _obvious_ reasons,” Hermione glared pointedly as Seamus, who had the grace to look a little apologetic.

“She didn’t tell us we’d freeze to the door! You guys must have a really sweet room…but I don’t really get _why_ you have your own room…together…” he looked suspiciously at Draco, flinching when he was met with a cold glare.

Harry was spared answering Seamus when Hermione checked her watch and exclaimed loudly that if they didn’t get a move on, they’d be late for their first class.

“But ‘Mione we still have like, a whole ten minutes,” Ron complained, earning a glare from his girlfriend while Harry and Draco took the hint and quickly excused themselves.

“Well that was fun. Your friends are such charmers,” Draco told Harry sarcastically once they had passed through the doors. “Truly, the most welcoming people I’ve ever met.”

“Hey, Hermione and Ron are doing well, everybody else will come around eventually. Seamus and I have never really seen eye-to-eye anyway, so I would have been really surprised if he had been super friendly towards you.”

Draco hummed his acknowledgment of Harry’s comment, his grip on the boy’s wrist tightening as they walked down the edge of the hall that was becoming crowded with more students. Harry glanced at Draco out of the corner of his eye, but he was looking straight ahead with an air of anxiety-driven determination.

It didn’t take long for students to recognize Harry even though he kept his head down to not attract any unnecessary attention. First were the whispers among the cacophony of excited voices as Harry pushed through the ever-growing mass of students, Draco pressed tightly to his back to avoid contact with other people as much as physically possible. He could already feel a headache beginning to throb in his temple and he moved to clutch Harry’s hand tightly in the nonexistent space between their bodies.

Then, some brave first-year Gryffindors decided to stop Harry short in the hallway. Draco leaned his forehead against the back of Harry’s neck, relieved that the contact made his head feel slightly better. He heard the two girls gushing annoyingly about how _amazing_ and _gorgeous_ Harry is and how excited they were to meet the savior of the world face to face.

Harry smiled politely, thanking the girls before telling them they should get to their first class, to which they asked Harry if he’d be their tutor for Defense Against the Dark Arts. Draco groaned in exasperation against Harry’s neck, making Harry shudder and both girls lean to look around at where the noise came from.

“Is that Draco Malfoy?” he heard one of them whisper.

“I thought the headmistress was joking. Didn’t the Daily Prophet say he’s supposed to be dead…?”

“Yes that is Draco Malfoy and he is very much alive and we are all about to be late to class so please move on, girls,” Harry loudly told them, frustration finally getting the better of him as he pushed through the two now furiously whispering first years, pulling Draco behind him as he marched onward. The crowd parted before them, Harry’s expression being enough to cause the students to move out of the way quickly. The grip on Draco’s hand was verging on painful, but the blond didn’t dare say anything.

They finally arrived at Professor Flitwick’s classroom, taking their seats along the side of the room. Since they were taking the class with Ravenclaw, Draco felt like he could relax a little, though he still kept a firm grip on Harry’s hand under their shared desk. Flitwick smiled kindly at the two of them, using his wand to close the door and welcoming them all back to Hogwarts in his scratchy old voice before beginning class.

* * *

 

 

Both charms and arithmacy passed by without incident and Draco could finally begin to breathe easier with the knowledge that the day was almost over and he had survived it. Only a couple other instances of people--young Gryffindor girls again--approaching Harry had occurred, but Harry had handled them all in much the same way as the first; forced politeness leading to him defending Draco and evasive maneuvering. 

Draco hadn’t seen a single Slytherin in their year yet, for which he was equally relieved and disappointed. A few sixth years had recognized him and smiled tensely from across the hall as they left charms, but nothing further than that. Obviously, both of them hadn’t been Death Eaters, which Draco figured was to blame for the lack of older Slytherins. 

During their break period before potions, Draco pulled Harry aside into a small alcove to escape the crowd. He faced away from the hall, basically pinning Harry against the wall in the small space but neither boy cared due to their frequent proximity.

“At the trials over the summer. Who was all there from Hogwarts? I know some of us were...you know...killed off. But Pansy’s parents forbade her from joining the Dark Lord and I know Blaise never had the stomach to join, even if he did share some of the views that would have made him a target for the Death Eaters. Also, Goyle. He never got the dark mark. Why aren’t they here?”

“I didn’t see Blaise or Pansy at any of the trials, so they must have just decided not to come back. In fact, all of the students that went to trial were pardoned, mainly because their parents were dying or dead due to the curse and it was decided justice had been served. Goyle is imprisoned for use of the cruciatus curse on students last year. Which you would’ve been tagged for as well if you hadn’t been dying.” Harry gave Draco an uncomfortable look, wondering how he had managed to do something so cruel.

“Don’t give me that look, Harry. You know as well as I how I’ve paid for doing that. But I do regret it, if it makes you feel any better. They didn’t deserve it.”

Draco’s expression was forlorn as he stared at the collar of Harry’s shirt peeking out from his robe, refusing to look the wizarding hero in the face. He hated thinking about the previous year. Not only had it been the most terrifying of his life, but he lost so many of his family and friends due to it. And he had been on the losing side. Nobody even cared that pretty much everybody he knew was gone, in fact, it was celebrated by nearly every “good” wizard. They didn’t get any fancy plaques remembering their existence or even proper burials in most cases. Sure they had fought for an evil cause, but they all either believed wholeheartedly that they were making the world a better place by doing so...or they were forced to do it. Either way, who could truly blame them? Everyone, apparently.

Harry was saying something, but Draco’s headache was back, and without thinking he tucked his face against Harry’s neck and wrapped his arms around the other boy’s waist. Harry tensed slightly, but rested his head atop Draco’s.

“Did you hear what I sad?” he whispered into the blond hair. Draco shook his head and Harry chuckled quietly.

“We have an audience of teenage girls, don’t make any sudden moves.” Draco jumped away from Harry, grimacing when a sharp pain shot through his head at the loss of contact that was barely made up for by Harry’s hand that had grabbed Draco’s arm. Sure enough, the Gryffindor girls from earlier had brought reinforcements and were all peering into the alcove with shocked expressions.

“Harry! What are you doing with that monster?!” a little red headed girl that reminded Harry a lot of young Ginny shouted.

“I have to get out of here,” Draco groaned, his free hand rubbing his temple, trying in vain to relieve the spiking pain.

“You’re not going anywhere Death Eater. Not until you leave Harry alone. He’s too good to be around the likes of you!” the same girl crossed her arms as she spoke, trying to block the entrance to the alcove with her small frame. 

More students were gathering around to see what the commotion was about, deciding it was more entertaining than getting to their classes. Some gathering students yelled out their agreement while a couple of Slytherin boys a few years younger than Harry and Draco hissed _traitor_ as they walked past. At that point, Draco had had it. He whipped out his wand, wrenching his arm out of Harry’s grasp as the boy tried to pull him back to stop him. He grit his teeth as his eyes welled up when the first burst of pain shot up his spine, but he remained on his feet, shoving the stupid Gryffindor girls out of the way and aiming at the backs of the Slytherins that dared to speak to him that way. 

Harry got there just in time to jump in front of the curse Draco was about to let fly, sending up a blocking spell so powerful it knocked the blond off his feet. He struggled to stand back up, managing to get on his knees before his eyes rolled into the back of his head and he crumpled to the ground. The two Slytherins had their wands out now, squaring up to Harry, who didn’t pause before disarming both boys. The two realized they were no match at this point and scurried away through the crowd of students that had formed to watch.

“Everyone get out of here!” Harry roared, his own wand poised to knock out anyone who approached Draco, who was now laying in fetal position on the stone floor, both hands grasping his head and spasms wracking his body. Harry must have looked terrifying, standing over the blond’s body with livid eyes ready to defend against anybody who dared come close, because the hallway cleared out in seconds. 

Harry dropped to his knees beside Draco, but stopped short when Draco shied away from him, shaking his head vigorously.

“I don’t...deserve it,” he said through clenched teeth. “I just tried to attack two defenseless kids. I am a monster. You don’t deserve to be stuck with me and I don’t deserve to live with anything less than what the Dark Lord cursed me with.” Draco’s words shuddered as he struggled to breathe, the urge to reach over and grab Harry was almost impossible to resist as his vision went white.

But then he felt strong arms wrapping around him accompanied with ebbing relief and he was pulled onto Harry’s lap, much the same way as he had been the first night Harry had spent at his house. This time, however, it wasn’t awkward or embarrassing and Draco let out a choked sob, hating himself as he desperately clung onto Harry’s robes.

“Let’s get you back to the room. We’re done for today,” Harry said quietly, standing easily and striding down the hallway, holding Draco tightly bridal-style against his chest. They hadn’t gone more than a few steps, however, when a familiar voice echoed from the other side of the hall, accompanied by the clicking of heels.

“Potter! What’s happened here?Weasley and Granger just ran into my office as if a dragon was on their heels raving that you two were under attack!” Harry turned to see McGonagall marching down the hall towards them, Hermione and Ron struggling to keep up.

“It’s under control, professor. Just a group of first-years that wanted to try to ‘save’ me from the dark side. I need to get Draco back, he’s had more than enough.”

“Well then, Potter. Take Weasley and Granger with you,” she pursed her lips in a thin line that the golden trio knew all too well. “Why is it everything that happens always involves you three?” With a sigh, she waved them all off, heading in the opposite direction to try to track down the first-years that had started the trouble with a stiff back that meant shit was about to get real when she caught them.

Once she was gone, Harry began walking swiftly in the direction of his room, turning to his two best friends when they matched his pace on either side of him.

“We really don’t need an escort guys. It’s not like I can’t handle a few kids.”

“Absolutely not, Harry. When we heard shouting down the hall that you were fighting some Slytherins I...we didn’t know what to do besides get McGonagall as quickly as possible. We had no way of knowing if you were okay! I want to at least make sure you get Draco back to your room safely. He doesn’t look so good…” Hermione was right. Draco was very pale and had his face turned into Harry’s chest, small stabs of pain still shooting up his spine and into his head despite being held by his tranquilizer. He did his best at pretending he was anywhere but here, dreading the conversation that would surely happen when they returned to their room. No way was Harry going to just let this incident slide. He could feel the wizard’s heart beat against his cheek and even though it was abnormally quick, it was calming to have so close even if it was terrifying that he was still feeling pain.

“So what happened, Harry? Did a group of kids really jump you?” Ron asked in disbelief, beginning to breathe heavy as he tried to keep up with Harry’s fast strides.

“It was just too much for one day. They kept coming up to us and some older Slytherins said something to Draco and it hit a nerve. But it wasn’t anything I couldn’t handle. We probably shouldn’t’ve tried to jump straight into all our classes at once, so it’s pretty much my fault for pushing him so hard.” Harry tightened his grip on Draco, looking down at the boy’s turned-away face with a soft expression only Hermione seemed to catch. She looked away quickly with a small, knowing smile.

“Bunch of little punks. What the bloody hell were they thinking they were gonna do against the wizard who defeated--”

“Well I’m glad nothing bad happened,” Hermione cut off Ron’s rant before it could begin. They were just rounding the corner of the hall that led to Harry and Draco’s room. 

It took Harry a moment to balance Draco in such a way that he could open the door, which he kicked open before striding directly to the bed and gently laying Draco down. He immediately kneeled on the bed over Draco, keeping contact by straddling his legs as he stripped down to just his pants and began to undress the blond to be in the same state. He had forgotten all about Ron and Hermione, who stood awkwardly in the doorway, until Hermione cleared her throat, a light blush on her cheeks.

“Harry, what are you doing?”

Harry, not an ounce of shame present in front of his friends, sat against the headboard, cradling Draco so his bare torso was pressed against his skin. Draco let out a shuddering sigh, wrapping his arms around Harry’s neck and resting his head against his shoulder, feeling his muscles begin to relax into a throbbing ache.

“Skin contact is always better. You guys can come in if you want, but we’re probably just going to be laying here for a while.”

Hermione caught Ron by the arm as he began to walk into the room. 

“No, thank you though. I think we’ll just leave you two be. Draco, I hope you feel better.”

Ron groaned as Hermione pulled him out into the hallway, his complaints about not even getting to see Harry’s giant room being cut off as she firmly closed the door.

Draco kicked off his pants as soon as they were alone, straddling Harry’s waist as he held onto his torso with all limbs in only his boxers. Harry swallowed heavily, wrapping his arms around Draco’s back.

“I’m sorry,” Draco mumbled into Harry’s shoulder. “I fucked up big time. I shouldn’t have lost control like that. I just couldn’t believe those little fuckers...from my own house...never mind. It doesn’t even matter.” He sounded absolutely miserable and Harry couldn’t help but press a gentle kiss to Draco’s temple. The blond felt his face heating up, holding his breath as he processed the action and suddenly remembering the night before. Maybe what Harry had told him wasn’t a dream…regardless, the lips pressed to his hair instantly began alleviating the lingering remains of his headache, leaving him feeling a bit light headed.

“I was expecting something like that to happen. You have nothing to apologize for; I shouldn’t have pushed you so hard on the first day,” Harry said, but Draco wasn’t listening.

“Do that again,” Draco demanded, not letting Harry continue what he was saying.

“Um, what?” Harry pulled back, but Draco resolutely clung to him, keeping his face hidden.

“Kiss me again.” Draco wasn’t the only one blushing now, but Harry slowly did as he was told, placing another kiss lightly to Draco’s hair. It was a warm feeling that spread slowly across Draco’s head and this time he pulled back sharply, taking Harry by surprise. 

“That feels amazing. Again.”

Harry wanted to laugh at Draco’s childish tone and demands, but the boy’s serious, calculating expression made him bite his tongue.

“What does it feel like?” Harry asked, leaning in to kiss Draco on the forehead, earning a blissful sigh.

“Like a glass of firewhiskey after a long day that warms you up from the inside, you know? I can’t really explain it. It’s like the first time I’ve felt _good_ though. You stop the pain, but it’s more like a relieving feeling than a good one.” Draco smirked at the light blush lingering on Harry’s cheeks. “Who would’ve thought, huh?”

Harry didn’t respond, instead leaning forward again to brush his lips against the bridge of Draco’s nose, the skin impossibly soft as Draco leaned into the feeling, his eyes sliding closed. Harry followed the same path he had made with his fingers all those nights ago, lightly lingering over Draco’s cheekbones and traveling to his temples before brushing down his jawline. He spent several moments just ghosting over Draco’s face before finally coming to rest with his forehead pressed against the other boy’s.

Draco was in absolute bliss, feeling like he had just sunken into a warm bath as the aches that plagued his muscles began to melt away with every touch of Harry’s lips. He opened his eyes slowly when Harry stopped, wondering why he would _ever_ stop doing something so wonderful. He came face to face with bright green eyes sparkling behind glasses that looked slightly foggy from the blush that had turned Harry’s face tomato red.

“So I’m taking it I didn’t dream that you confessed your undying love to me last night, is that correct?”

Harry gulped, closing his eyes so he wouldn’t have to stare directly into Draco’s.

“I mean, it’s very understandable; I am smoking hot and have the personality of a superstar after all. It was only a matter of time before you fell for me. Besides, I have a really great ass,” Draco snickered and Harry opened his eyes so Draco could see him roll them dramatically.

“Don’t be an idiot. Out of the two of us, I obviously have the better butt.”

“Must be from all that unhealthy shit you eat.”

“Oh I’ll give you something to eat.”

“That’s pretty gay, Harry,” Draco snorted as Harry blanched for a second.

“Not as gay as you begging me to kiss you.”

“You confessed your love for me. I win, moron.”

“Well you still haven’t responded to it yet.”

“Are you waiting for me to? How do you know you’ll like the answer I give you?” Harry’s brows furrowed at Draco’s words and he eventually shrugged.

“Any answer is better than no answer.” He had barely gotten the words out when Draco lunged forward, pushing his lips against Harry’s. If Harry was unprepared for the sudden kiss, he was even less prepared for the loud moan that filled the room as Draco’s head spun in bliss. He quickly moved to deepen the kiss, Harry taking a second to be shocked before he began reciprocating with just as much enthusiasm.

Draco tightened his arms around Harry’s neck, using one hand to grab a handful of dark hair. Harry gasped and Draco instantly used the opening to slide his tongue into Harry’s mouth. Now he wasn’t the only one making noise, Harry letting an unintentional moan slip into Draco’s mouth. 

Draco pulled back slowly, a strand of saliva connecting them until the Slytherin licked his lips, Harry’s taste lingering on them deliciously. Both boys were breathing raggedly, staring into each other’s eyes as they tried to process what had just occurred. 

Harry appeared to be very flustered and Draco was almost proud that he had scrambled the brain of the Golden Boy. He looked pretty cute all frazzled, which made Draco let a small smile sneak though his composure. He felt beyond fantastic, his whole body almost singing in bliss as he remained clinging to Harry’s neck, using the hand still in the Gryffindor’s hair to scratch at his scalp gently.

This broke Harry out of his shocked trance, and he quickly assessed the situation. The pink dusting his cheeks deepened to a bright red and he shifted subtly as he became aware of a slight problem that he hoped Draco hadn’t noticed. Though he couldn’t see how the blond wouldn’t have considering he was sitting right on it.

“How do you feel?” Harry asked, trying to distract himself. He was shifting more now, trying to move Draco off of his crotch without the boy noticing. However, it only served to make things worse as the friction of Draco’s ass over the bulge in his pants left him panting slightly. Draco, who had noticed the second Harry attempted to move him, smirked at the blush covering Harry’s face.

“Pretty brilliant, though apparently you aren’t feeling so bad yourself.” To emphasize his point, Draco ground his butt down, earning a moan that Harry tried to stifle. 

“You still...haven’t responded...to what I said earlier,” Harry panted. He looked down to avoid Draco’s calculating gaze. Bad idea. Harry wasn’t the only one enjoying himself; Draco’s boxer briefs were tented between their stomachs, the green fabric slightly damp with precum. Harry groaned, his own dick throbbing at the sight and the knowledge that Draco was just as turned on as he was. He was brought out of staring by a tap on his forehead.

“My eyes are up here, pervert,” Draco snickered at how red Harry’s face became, almost worried the boy would burst some capillaries. “And as far as you wanting me to respond to your proclamation, you should know by now that I am _not_ a romantic.” Before Harry could look too crestfallen, Draco caught the boy’s chin, forcing him to meet his eyes.

“However, while I’m not going to start spouting lovey-dovey bullshit, I do have stronger...feelings for you than I’ve ever had for, well, anyone really. I don’t know what love feels like well enough to tell you I feel it, but there is _something_ there. You make me feel whole, I guess,” Harry wasn’t the only one blushing now, Draco’s last whispered sentence causing a dusting of a blush to appear on his face. He refused to break eye contact though, trying to convey as much honesty in his gaze as he could. 

Harry was grinning like an absolute dork. He had definitely not been expecting what was as close to a confession as he was going to get from the Slytherin and before he lost his nerve, he leaned in again. This kiss was slower; they moved their lips in gentle synch before Harry pulled back, his forehead resting on Draco’s.

“Thank you,” he said, smiling brightly. Draco rolled his eyes, but a smile was tugging on his lips as well.

“What kind of idiot Gryffindor thanks someone for a kiss? You’re a mess,” Draco chuckled.

“I’m not the only mess here,” in a burst of Gryffindor confidence Harry grabbed Draco’s hips, emphasizing his point by grinding his erection against the cleft of the barely clothed butt still resting on his lap. Draco groaned at the feeling, leaning forward to rest his head against the junction of Harry’s neck and shoulder. He began to nip and kiss the skin there as Harry moved his hands over his lower back, sliding his finger tips under the band of Draco’s underwear tantalizingly. 

Draco began to rut against Harry’s stomach, looking for friction before he was stilled by the Gryffindor’s hands returning to his hips.

“What do you want, Draco?” Harry breathed, slipping a hand to toy with the fabric right above the bulge in the blond’s briefs. He wasn’t about to get really handsy without being invited, the last thing he needed was to get carried away and lose Draco’s trust. It turned out his caution was unnecessary as Draco brought his hands down from around Harry’s neck and grabbed the Gryffindor’s wrist, forcing it lower until it was palming Draco’s crotch.

Draco let out a moan at the feeling and Harry took a shuddering breath to stabilize himself before he got the nerve to pull down the waistband of Draco’s briefs, allowing his dick to finally spring free.

“Oh Merlin,” he whispered to himself. Draco was a bit larger than average, the circumcised head leaking precum while Draco watched through half-lidded eyes as Harry gazed at his junk like a deer in headlights. Harry honestly didn’t know how to proceed from this point, he had never been with another guy, and even with Ginny they never moved beyond kissing because doing anything further felt like he was violating her. After a few seconds of inaction however, and he didn’t have to make any decisions.

Draco had gotten impatient and was feeling far too naked straddling Harry, who was still wearing his now uncomfortably tight pants. Draco pushed Harry from where he was propped up to lie flat on his back while still keeping his legs on either side of Harry’s thighs. Harry laid completely submissive, with his arms spread to his sides as if offering his body to the boy above him. Draco bit his lip, trying to make himself focus instead of just stare at the beautiful creature waiting to receive whatever he was given. With deliberate, tantalizing slowness, Draco ran his hands down the tan chest before him, pausing to pinch Harry’s nipples and roll the hardening nubs between his fingers while he placed wet kisses to Harry’s chest. The Gryffindor gasped, goosebumps covering his skin at the stimulation; he had never known how sensitive nipples could be.

But Draco was just getting started. What he lacked in first hand experience, he made up for in knowledge he’d gathered from listening to Blaise ramble about his frequent sexual escapades. He rolled his hips once against Harry’s upper thigh before shifting lower, allowing his tongue to wander over Harry’s stomach while he quickly unbuckled the belt that dared to impede his progress. He nipped at the soft skin directly above the button before undoing that as well and waiting for Harry to raise his hips so he could yank off both pants and boxers in one impatient movement. Draco also kicked off his own underwear, crouching above Harry with the eyes of a predator as he scraped his nails across the tops of the Gryffindor’s thighs.

Harry groaned when the cool air of the room hit his now bare erection, licking his lips nervously as his eyes met Draco’s. The blond decided he was tired of all the foreplay, especially since Harry looked like he was about to bust a nut just from the teasing he was receiving. He crawled up Harry’s body, running his hands along the Gryffindor’s sides until they made their way into dark hair. He held the rest of himself a few inches above the tempting skin below him, pausing when they were face to face. Making sure Harry was staring directly at him, Draco smirked before grinding his hips down, forcing their dicks to finally come into contact with each other.

Harry moaned loudly wrapping one arm around Draco’s neck to pull the boy into a brutal kiss while the other hand traveled down and tried to hold both erections. His grasp wasn’t quite enough, but Draco got the hint and supplied his own hand as well. They became rutting, panting, and moaning messes within seconds of the added friction.

“Ah Harry I’m...mmh I’m getting close,” Draco panted after pulling back from the kiss to catch his breath. Harry tried to pick up the pace of both his hand and his hips, not trusting his voice enough to respond vocally. He could feel warmth pooling in his abdomen and his balls began to tighten in preparation for release that was almost...there…

_Pop_! 

“Masters Harry and Draco, Winky has brought you your dinners...oh my, is this a bad time?!” a tiny voice squeaked from beside the bed. Draco shouted out in surprise, falling to the side of Harry and yanking the blankets up to cover their bare bodies as Harry tried in flustered haziness to shield Draco’s body with his own while muttering “what the fuck what the fuck what the fuck” on repeat.

“What the bloody hell are you fucking doing here, elf?!” Draco shouted, glaring at the house elf while holding the blanket up to his chin. She looked truly scarred, standing as still as a statue with two plates loaded with food on trembling arms and eyes wider than the wizards thought was possible. 

“Winky is very, very sorry Masters,” the elf squeaked, bowing her head as low as she could get it without dumping the food on the floor. “We thought, since you weren’t at dinner last night and didn’t show again tonight, well, we thought you would appreciate having your meals brought to you. Winky is deeply sorry for entering without warning. She will be sure to punish herself fittingly for such an awful error.”

“No no no Winky that is not necessary,” Harry interjected quickly from where he lay half on top of Draco before Winky could find something to hurt herself with. “You didn’t know and you did nothing wrong. Thank you for the food, could you leave it on the end of the bed, please?”

Winky looked at him as if approaching the bed was the last thing she wanted to do, but after a second of hesitation she did as she was told. She curtsied, offered another apology, and disapparated with a loud _pop_.

With both their erections having vanished the second Winky appeared, he atmosphere in the room was so awkward it was almost tangible. Harry sat up, taking a deep breath before turning to meet Draco’s eyes. To his surprise, the livid expression he was expecting wasn’t present. Instead, Draco was making a face that alluded to constipation. Before Harry could ask what was wrong, the Slytherin lost his composure completely, bursting into a fit of laughter that instantly dissipated the tension in the room. Harry found himself joining in after a second, laughing so hard he collapsed back onto the mattress. He rolled onto his side to face Draco, his fit fading into an enormous smile at the sight of the boy he loved with tears in his eyes from laughing and the most carefree expression Harry’d ever witnessed from him adorning his face.

Harry couldn’t help himself and leaned in to kiss Draco, both their smiles making it kind of difficult but better than any kiss shared before it.

“That was literally the most embarrassing thing that’s ever happened to me. I’m never leaving this room again,” Draco laughed once they broke apart, causing Harry to snicker as he wiped an escaped tear off the blond’s cheek.

“It was a mood killer for sure. Who would’ve thought we’d be cock-blocked by a damn house elf?

“At least sex can only get better from here,” Draco winked, causing Harry to blush and tuck his face against Draco’s neck. They cuddled in silence for several minutes before Harry remembered the reason they were interrupted in the first place.

“We may as well eat dinner here, I don’t feel like getting out of bed again tonight.” Harry pressed a kiss to Draco’s neck before sitting up. He tucked his legs under Draco’s as he retrieved their plates from the end of the bed, handing one to the appreciative Slytherin.

“How do you feel, by the way? If kissing made you feel good, I can’t imagine how that must have felt.”

“You have no fucking idea. I haven’t felt this amazing in...ever actually.” It was true, Draco’s body was in a state of relaxed bliss he hadn’t experienced in his life, even if they hadn’t gotten to finish. He couldn’t begin to imagine how good _that_ would feel, as long as Harry was down for more fun activities, that is.

“So what does this make us? Because I _definitely_ want to do that again, but friends with benefits doesn’t sound appealing. Besides, we’d be more like conjoined twins with benefits what with the fact that we’re always stuck together. And you love me and I don’t hate you as much as the rest of humanity so I feel like we’re beyond the realm of friendship at this point anyway…” Draco trailed off, realizing a little too late that he was rambling. Harry thought it was adorable how flustered the Slytherin was getting. He pressed a kiss to Draco’s temple before shoving an enormous forkful of mashed potatoes into his mouth and chewing thoughtfully.

“We may as well be boyfriends then since your reasoning gets rid of all other options,” Harry eventually said once he had swallowed his food. He glanced over at Draco, who was sporting a small smile again.

“Would you like that, Draco?”

“I would love that.”


	11. Chapter 11

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Hi! I've recently taken this fic over... This is intense! Hope you enjoy this. I've sat on it for a while trying to get it right, and hope I've done it some justice ahaha.  
> Loads of... emotions! in this one.

Harry had imagined waking up to be far more romantic than it turned out to be. Draco had, apparently, been awake for some time already, sitting next to him with a knee touched to his ribs. He has a moody look about him.  
“Mmf... Mornin’...” Harry reaches for his glasses and sits up, keeping a hand on Draco’s shoulder.

“Good morning.”

Draco sounds sullen and distant, looking straight across the room as if displeased by the really quite terrible decor. Harry can’t blame him, because the garish greens and reds are hurting his head. Glasses set lazily on his crooked nose, he tries to get to grips with the situation, though is mind is still wrapped up in sleep.  
“Everything okay?” Draco only hums in reply. They sit in silence while Harry tries to wake up enough to string a sentence together. This is going to be a long day.

It’s no surprise that Draco has a lot on his mind. The last few days have been turbulent to say the least, if not the past months. Come to think of it, for the Malfoy family things have been turbulent for many years. No wonder that now there is some promise of safety, Draco would find himself pondering the bigger picture.

Despite himself, Draco misses his father. The death of his mother is expectedly painful, but to miss his often cold and overly strict father comes as a surprise. While remaining his protector over the years, Lucius had been weak and unfeeling, drawing Draco into an insidious world that put unthinkable pressures on him. For some students the most their parents expected was to attend classes and achieve passable grade. For Draco, his father had allowed the darkest power known to the wizarding world to expect him to murder his own head teacher. He let his son be brainwashed, abused and traumatised.

All of this weighs down on Draco now and he doesn’t think Harry could even begin to comprehend it. It’s a different world from ‘the chosen one’s struggles, however closely intertwined. They sit together in the quiet, Harry trying to work out what to say and Draco unwilling to say anything at all. He doesn’t know how to talk about what he feels right now.

Conflicted is a word for it. Everything his father had stood for was being trashed by his feelings for Harry. It will be hard to move forward and grow with the ghosts of his parents bearing down on him like this.

“Do you want to go for breakfast today?” Harry finally conjures up something to say. He’s hungry but won’t push Draco to go. The house elves will surely bring them something to eat if need be.   
“I’m not hungry.”  
“Oh. Okay.” Harry blinks and looks around him, wondering what to do. “And classes...?”  
“I’ll be fine.”

This turns out not to be the case. Draco won’t eat a thing that the house elves bring, much to Winky’s concern. He begins to shake when Harry holds his hand. The can barely make it to the bathroom. He looks pale (well, paler than usual). He refuses to undress to go for a shower. In the end Harry has to settle for washing at the sink with a flannel, trying to be understanding though the quiet is frustrating him.

Harry is used to Ron’s sullen spells but with Draco it’s different. Ron is pretty much always angry over something that can be fixed by conversation and not being a prat. Something tells Harry that this might be more complex. He wishes he had Hermione’s sensitivity. Eventually he surrenders to ignorance – they return to bed and he doesn’t try and instigate conversation.

15 minutes later and they still haven’t exchanged a word since Draco’s dismissal of his worries. They’ll be late for class if they don’t leave soon. Harry is fully awake now and wondering what to say. He notices Draco shaking, hunched over his knees protectively. Sitting up, he pushes his glasses further up his nose and carefully repositions himself, never breaking contact.  
“Draco... Are you crying?”

Even though he’s trying to hide it, Harry can see the tears. He shudders and lets out a broken, hitching breath, seems ashamed to have been caught crying.  
“Draco...” Harry sighs fondly, placing a hand on his back. He’s shocked when Draco yanks away from him, nearly breaking their contact entirely where their legs touch.

“Don’t touch me. I don’t deserve to be here.” Draco is leaning his head forward to try and cover his face. Harry frowns, gently moving to make better contact – memories of yesterday with Draco curled up on the floor make his stomach tighten. He won’t let that happen again.  
“You deserve to be here as much as anyone else.”  Harry states vehemently.   
“Not just anyone else is Death Eater scum.” He sounds bitter, unlike his funny and flirtatious attitude the night before. He’s so changeable. Harry struggles to come to grips with all of his different angles.  
“Draco, look at me.” Harry demands, taking a hold of his shoulders gently to turn him around. “ _Look_ at me.” Draco finally complies, reluctant. Harry takes his arm and draws it out in front of him – the Dark Mark is faded like an old scar. “This is a part of you, and it will be forever. Just like this,” he points to the lightning scar on his forehead “will always be a part of me. We can’t escape our pasts, even if it isn’t fair and we didn’t choose them. But we can always grow. We can build, and we can do that together.”

Draco avoids his eyes, obviously doubtful.  
“ I mean it Draco. You chose to join Voldemort as much as I chose to be ‘the boy who lived’. We didn’t get to pick our battles but now we do. Even if being here is scary and difficult and there are loads of really painful memories, it’s a battle we actually deserve to fight. You deserve to be here. You deserve to face your demons, learn and grow from them, and eventually you will greet them like old friends. You deserve to move _on_ Draco. Because unlike I believed for the longest time, a scar doesn’t define you.”   
“You should be a motivational speaker.” Draco grins weakly and they laugh together before lapsing back into silence.

They sit quietly in their togetherness and it feels as if they are reaching a mutual understanding that although things are still broken, they can be fixed. The traumas of yesterday aren’t any less real but for the first time, Draco considers it might actually get better.

“Harry...” Draco starts, uncertain. His eyes dart around the room restlessly. “I just want you to remember the... Implications of being with someone like me. People won’t understand. They don’t understand, you saw that yesterday. Even if you see things that way, they don’t – once a Death Eater, always a Death Eater, you get me?”  
“I don’t care. There are two people in this relationship and they aren’t either of them – we call the shots. If I think you’re good for me and I’m good for you, and as long as you want me, I want to be with you. I’m not going to run from this, Draco. I’ve been through worse than some preteen girls harassing me and so have you.”  
“True... But they’re not attacking you the way they are me, you have to understand that. They love you. They hate me. It’s different from your perspective.”  
“Then we have to stick together and see it through – they’ll get bored of following us around eventually. They were always going to talk, and I was always prepared for that when we decided to come back to Hogwarts. But it’s my _home_ Draco and I’ll help it be a home for you too. I’m not going to let anyone hurt you again.”

* * *

 

Transfiguration is their first class which means that when they don’t show up, McGonagall notices straight away. They had it with the Slytherins which had Draco so on edge that he basically begs Harry to stay in bed. The head teacher knocks on the door (apparently immune to being stuck to it) and waits to be let in. Harry peeks out with Draco just behind him, both just in t-shirts and boxers, and smile sheepishly at the sight of her.  
“Professor McGonagall, hi.” Harry pulls the door back and she strides in.  
“Hello boys. Draco, how are you feeling?”

For some reason both of them had been expecting to be in trouble, but she seems more concerned under all of that sternness than anything else.   
“I’m fine, Professor.” Draco addresses the floor, toeing the line on the carpet where the green turns to maroon.  
“Mr Malfoy, I know that you and I have not always seen eye to eye but I can assure you I have your best interests at heart. You don’t have to lie to me. I understand yesterday was very difficult for you.” Harry smiles, fondness for McGonagall welling up in his chest – she had always been the closest thing to a maternal figure in his life since coming here, and she wasn’t letting him down now.

Draco is looking shocked more than anything. McGonagall had been more to the point than he’d been prepared for. To be honest, all of the measures she had taken for his wellbeing had been a surprise to him. He wonders if or when that will wear off. He considers his words, glad of Harry holding his hand now because he can feel his fingers shaking.

“It’s nothing I can’t handle, Professor. I’m just hoping things will settle down soon.” Draco is looking down at the floor now, shifting his weight.  
“I can assure you they will. All of the students involved in the incident yesterday have had meetings with myself and I spoke briefly at breakfast about the... Repercussions that those caught involved in any incidents like this would face.” She looks between them, gauging their attitudes careful.

“If I may be so bold...” She starts, measuring her words. “I had expected you two to be less harmonious in your situation... Of course, your previous rivalry was understandable and all of the staff were aware of it. However, without meaning to pry, I’ve been curious as to what you would call your current arrangement?”

 

Harry grins, squeezing Draco’s hand.  
“Draco’s my boyfriend.” He looks so stupidly pleased with himself that Draco blushes, looking to McGonagall for her reaction. She has her customary smirk on her face, arms crossed over her chest.   
“I see. Well, I trust you will be careful with one another. It can be difficult to spend so much time with anyone, even your significant other. Ensure you are spending time with other students – I know Mr Weasley and Miss Granger have been concerned.” She turns to go, pausing to look back at Draco curiously.

“... Yes, Professor?”  
“Draco, I never said it before. But I was sorry to hear of your parents passing. I taught them both when they were students here. Narcissa was very talented. I understand that at this time, your feelings may be conflicted. However, I could tell your parents loved you very much. I hope that, even through the pain of their absence, returning to Hogwarts will help you grow as a person in a far safer environment than it has been.”   
“Thank you Professor...” Draco shuffles, eyes downcast. “Considering this... _situation..._ ” He holds his and Harry’s entwined hands up for emphasis. “I’m not sure they would have been quite as proud.”

Harry and McGonagall both frown at that, the professor turning around to face them fully again.

“I know that many pureblood families were convinced homosexuality was a disease and that it threatened their bloodline as it wouldn’t produce an heir... However, these things have started to become more accepted. I know that when Professor Dumbledore announced his interest in men, many were convinced he was not fit to teach or be affiliated with the Ministry. It was largely due to his power that he was accepted. But towards the end, it wasn’t such a defining trait.” She pauses, a bittersweet look about her as she remembers the previous headmaster. “It never mattered to me. I supported him to be happy. I feel the same way for you both. More than anything, I’m glad you’ve stopped bickering quite so much.” Draco smiles wanly, fiddling with Harry’s fingers. “Anyway, I could go on for hours.  In the off chance you decide to tell the other students about your relationship, any... interference you may experience will be dealt with swiftly and severely, I can assure you of that. Is there anything I can assist you both with at the moment?”

“No, Professor. Thank you.” Harry’s smile is warm, moving to see McGonagall to the door. Throughout all of this he’s been distracted slightly by the fact that he’s not exactly dressed for a serious conversation, and he’s relieved when the headmistress pulls the door closed behind her.

Standing in silence by the door for a moment, Harry ponders everything that was said. Then he turns to Malfoy, tilting his head.   
“Draco... You can talk to me about anything. I know we spent a lot of time hating each other and whatnot, but now that we’re together... Well, I’d be a shit boyfriend if I wasn’t here for you.” He smiles, squeezing the blonde’s hand. Draco rolls his eyes and drags him back to lie in bed, finally eyeing the leftover food with some interest.  
“I’m not opening my heart up to you all at once. Patience is a virtue, _Potter._ ” He smirks, picking at a croissant with his leg pressed against Harry’s.  
“S’alright. I’ve got time, _Malfoy._ ” Harry nudges Draco out of the way to pick up another slice of toast, still hot thanks to the house elf magic on the platter. Draco scowls at him for budging him aside, elbowing him in the ribs. “ _Ow,_ what was that for?!”  
“You’re being an insufferable and greedy twat, as usual.”  
“I thought I was being perfectly charming!”  
“I didn’t know charming was in your vocabulary. Compared to me you’re positively barbaric – look at all the crumbs you’re leaving on the bed.”   
“Such thing as cleaning charms, Draco. Thought a pureblood like you would know all about them – were charms not your strong point?”  
“Watch out or I’ll put a laxative potion in your tea – potions was never your strong point, so I know you couldn’t copy.”   
“Sod off, you prick.” Harry snorts around a mouthful of toast, butting Draco’s gently.  
“Get your big head off me.” Draco grumbles without much vindication as Harry rests his head on his shoulder, still chewing. “The smell of your shampoo is putting me off my croissant.”  
“It’s the same shampoo as you use, Draco.”  
“I wear it better.”  
“You wear nothing better.”  
“How vulgar!” Draco is snickering now, pretending to be disgusted. “I’ll report you to McGonagall for harassment.”  
“Piss off, you wouldn’t.”  
“Fine, I’ll tell Ron in graphic detail about last night and watch him pass out. Don’t want me to kill your best friend, do you?”  
“That’s just cruel, to be honest.” Harry grins. “I think we should break him in slowly.”

They banter on like that aimlessly through breakfast. They spend the day in their room, talking about nothing or napping. Yesterday had been particularly draining for Draco so he was keen to have as much ‘beauty sleep’ as possible. When Harry told him he’s already too beautiful to bear it, Draco told him to fuck off and stop being such a disgusting sap.

“You know, I always thought you fancied me.” Harry jokes as they’re getting dressed to attend dinner in the Great Hall with Ron and Hermione, being conscious of McGonagall’s mention of Ron and Hermione’s worry.  
“That’s interesting, because I always thought you were a prat.”  
“Sod off, you thought I was fit. Saw you watching me during Quidditch.”  
“Harry, it was kind of my job to watch you seeing as we were both Seekers. Wouldn’t be very tactical to just stare into space.”  
“Don’t rain on my parade, thanks.” Harry grumbles, pretending to be put out. Draco rolls his eyes, dropping down into his lap.  
“Sorry, dear, I just wasn’t that into you. Hard to get to know someone when they hate you for the colour of your school tie.”  
“It wasn’t because you were a Slytherin, it was because you were a stuck up little shit! And anyway, I didn’t hate you, I just... Found you infuriating.”  
“Hmm... You could have fooled me. Was it all an act to hide how much you fancied me?” Draco smirks, getting comfortable on Harry’s lap, making him blush.  
“No...”  
“Totally was. You were _obsessed_ with me, stalking me basically.”  
“You _did_ break my nose for listening in on your conversation, Draco – I reckoned you were up to something.”  
“Perceptive! You deserved that, though, for snooping.”  
“I love sticking my nose into your business, true.” Harry grins. “It was funny seeing you get pissed off.”  
“You are _such_ a prick. And here I was, thinking you’re here because you like me. But in reality, you’re just trying to get all up in my business so you can leak it to the press.” Draco fakes a sorrowful face, looking away. Harry laughs and pulls him down to lie on the bed with him.  
“Yep, you got me. You’re still as insufferable as before, and I’ve got Rita Skeeter coming next week for an interview. Remember to make yourself presentable – I’m sure we’ll make front page.”  
“Sod off, Potter.” Draco laughs, nuzzling his head under Harry’s chin for a cuddle. Harry automatically wraps his arms around him, giving him a squeeze.

“We’re going to be late for dinner.” Draco mumbles after some time, feeling content and warm in Harry’s arms. He doesn’t really want to leave the room but he wouldn’t keep Harry away from his friends any longer.  
“Don’t care.” Harry grumbles, yawning. “M’tired.”  
“Doesn’t your greed compel you to get up...?” Draco smirks, rubbing his cheek on Harry’s chest.  
“Nope. Know Winky will come with food.”  
“You’re so rude, making the house elves your personal servants. Hope you don’t take that attitude with me, I’ll knock you out.”  
“You couldn’t manage, you wuss.” Harry snorts, pressing a kiss to Draco’s forehead which makes the blonde hum happily. “Anyway, Winky _likes_ bringing the food.”  
“Ron will be suspicious by now... Might think I’ve taken you captive.”  
“You have.” Harry shrugs, gesturing to the way Draco is pretty much lying on top of him. “Don’t really mind though. You’re like a blanket. Bit of a bony blanket, but all the same.”  
“You’re just _using_ me.” Draco whines, trying to wiggle off Harry, who tightens his arms around him to stop him going. “Unhand me, foul beast!”  
“Noooo, stay there, it’s nice.” Harry complains lifting his head to kiss the tip of Draco’s nose, which makes him blush and wrinkle up his face.  
“Can’t make me.”  
“Can too.”  
“What if I _want_ to move?”  
“But you don’t.” Harry smirks, raising his brows at Draco who stares back as if he’s about to disagree, before sighing and dropping his head back down to rest on Harry’s chest.  
“No. I don’t. But that doesn’t mean I like you using me for a blanket.”  
“Sorry ‘bout it.”

Draco hums, wondering if they’re going to go to dinner or if he can take his trousers off yet.  
“Are you really not going to go for dinner?”  
“Nope.” Harry grins. “Don’t want to. I’m the chosen one, I do what I want.”  
“Merlin, never say that again.” Draco laughs incredulously. “Soon enough you’ll want a crown and cape.”  
“Mm, nah, just food and lots of sleep and to never ever go to Potions. “  
“You act like you’re not high maintenance.” Draco scoffs, rolling to lie on his side with Harry turning to face him. “So pompous.”  
“You loooove it.” Harry teases, bumping their noses together.   
“Maybe – maybe not. Time will tell...” He wiggles his eyebrows, trying to be mysterious. “Well, if we’re not going, I’m taking my trousers off.”  
“Wow, you don’t mess around!” Harry winks, using wandless magic to remove both of their trousers with ease. “And you called _me_ vulgar.”  
“You _are._ I was talking about being comfortable, not about shagging.”   
“Surely it can be both.”  
“Maybe, but not right now. You’re not having _any_ until Winky’s been and went. I’m safeguarding against what happened last time.”  
“Aww... Fine...”  
“Impatient, much?”  
“I mean, no, I can wait. I’ve waited _ages_ already, though.”  
“Oh shut up, I want to nap.”  
“Oh. Okay, then. Good night, sleeping beauty.”  
“You’re bloody right I’m beautiful. Enjoy lying there being broody.” Draco smiles, already getting settled to nap. Harry mutters under his breath about demanding, lazy boyfriends, so he elbows him in the ribs. “I said shut up.”

Begrudgingly, Harry stops grumbling and wraps his arms around Draco again, hugging him close to help him get to sleep peacefully. It doesn’t take long until he’s dozing off too, dinner quickly forgotten.

 


End file.
